Synthetic Insight
by Pruit Igoe
Summary: What if the line between artificial intelligence and organic intelligence was crossed? Commander Shepard gains a power beyond any organic being, and comes to understand the war that she fights. AU, FSHEP
1. Chapter 1

Admiral Hackett leaned back in the richly upholstered wing chair, lacing his fingers together. One of the Admiral's vices appeared to be antique furniture from Earth's early industrial era, as the expansive oaken desk and leather chair were well out of place in the otherwise utilitarian construction of his office. Obviously, rank came with privileges, particularly when having heavy furniture brought onto a interstellar vessel. Miranda's own seat was a modest low-backed chair made of some kind of wood, intended for making the user slightly uncomfortable. No doubt to subconsciously provide a disadvantage while conversing with the Admiral.

Hackett cleared his throat. "You should know as well as anyone that there is not much taste for artificial intelligence research right now. Eden Prime seems to have had consequences beyond elevating Shepard to Spectre status. With her running around chasing down Saren, Geth, and who knows what else? It's political suicide, Miss Lawson, and you know it. You tell your superior that this project needs to be closed, quietly."

The Illusive Man had expected the Admiral to terminate her project almost immediately after the attack on Eden Prime. That kind of research was highly illegal in Council space. The Alliance could not be implicated in that kind of activity. That was why her organization was useful to them.

It was a game of cat and mouse; when dealing with the Alliance. The relationship between the secretive, elusive organization known as Cerberus and the vast bureaucracy of the Alliance was tenuous at best. Shared goals came in the form of technology, economics, and the exploration of the vast expanses of the galaxy. Cerberus did not do charity work, and always gained much in the way of funding and technology while working on these "joint ventures." The Alliance tolerated the somewhat questionable tactics that Cerberus employed when pursuing its goals, as the results were always exceptional and the participants were always quiet. Of course, the relationship was doomed to be abandoned when the winds of political change blew through the Admiralty and humanity at large. Thus, Miranda had been summoned by the Admiral to receive the news that her employer's services were no longer required.

"Miss Lawson, that is not the only reason why I have asked for you to be present," growled the Admiral in a low tone. He pointed to a data-pad on his desk and spat, "This. I think your superior needs to see what it contains."

Miranda allowed her meticulously sculpted brows to creep infinitesimally higher in response to the Admiral's statement. Hackett continued, "It has come to my attention that your employer has engaged in questionable usage of Alliance resources and personnel. In the past, the methods your organization used and statues that were violated could be swept under the rug. However, given the elevation of a human to Spectre status, we can no longer tolerate these kinds of activities. The Council will not be pleased to find out that we are preaching one message while feeding your organization talent and funding to perform research which is in direct contravention of treaties and accords signed by our race."

Miranda's wan smile dropped as the Admiral continued his tirade.

"I have also heard that your supervisor has been implicitly involved in the abduction and or death of Alliance personnel. That is _unacceptable!_" shouted Hackett as he pounded the desk with his fists. "Tell the Illusive Man to clean up his act or he'll find the galaxy to be a very unfriendly place for him and his kind!"

"I will relay your concerns to Him, Admiral Hackett. I do not doubt that he will be disappointed that you see fit to terminate our contract." Miranda slowly lifted her chin, gazing down upon the Admiral in a well practiced air of superiority. "Admiral, if that is all you wish to discuss, I have many other matters which are pressing importance."

Hackett nodded curtly. "I want this dealt with, and I want it done discreetly."

"As if we would be anything but, Admiral," clipped Miranda. She rose from her seat and bowed imperceptibly. "Good day."

Briskly, she turned and took her leave.

* * *

The Illusive Man casually flicked the lighter as he waited for the secure connection to be established. His best operative had news to deliver, news which had already reached him via other channels. It was good business practice to have alternative means of being informed.

The pleasant figure of Miranda Lawson materialized in the holographic projector before him. Apparently, she was the very model of human genetic perfection. He felt no need to doubt that, given the sight before him. She crossed her arms in such a way to accentuate her figure, a posture wasted on him but effective enough when dealing with many of those whom she dealt with on a regular basis. She knew that her body was a creation intended for a purpose. A tool to be used.

"Miranda. How was your meeting with our employer?" drawled the Illusive Man.

"Just as you expected. He wants to distance himself from the project. He wants a 'discreet' demobilization. He also sent me with a stern warning about complying with Council statues and to observe care when handling Alliance personnel."

Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, the Illusive Man considered her carefully worded statement.

"I am indeed disappointed that he no longer sees value in our expertise or services. It is regrettable that the agents that I chose to oversee some of the higher-risk operations were not as inviolate as yourself. We have already made steps to dispose of these ventures." He took another pull of his cigarette. "Regarding your own operation; I have planned for this eventuality so it is no great loss. We will terminate the project as he requests."

Miranda stiffened as the Illusive Man spoke. He held up a hand as he saw her body shift.

"I know you have invested much time and effort overseeing the project. I have been greatly pleased by your achievements thus far. We've accomplished far more than even Iexpected, and it is the Alliance's loss for having ignored the potential opportunities that our discoveries have uncovered. I want you to reassign the soft assets and eliminate any outstanding liabilities. Use your own discretion when necessary."

"What of the construct? Should I attempt to relocate it?"

He took another drag on his cigarette, savoring the hot smoke. "No. I have an idea which will remind Hackett not to make foolish accusations without understanding the truth behind the matters. It will also give us a chance to observe the indomitable Commander Shepard."

Miranda arched an eyebrow.

"I will forward the details when you have finished the reduction in force," He stabbed the cigarette into the try on his chair's armrest. "Contact me when you are done."

"Understood."

The hologram disappeared, leaving the Illusive Man bathed only in the red glow of the star burning behind him.

* * *

"Operative Lawson, we have completed our sweep of the facility and have secured the remaining assets for transport. Are there further instructions?"

Miranda glanced up from the terminal and focused her gaze upon the black-clad pair of Cerberus troopers standing before her. She allowed her trademark smirk to show.

"Thank you sergeant, your squad has done well. Head up to the shuttle, I will be along shortly."

The troopers nodded as they acknowledged the command. Miranda returned her attention to the screen. She frowned, feeling a flush of anger at the wanton destruction that would soon be visited here. It was a bittersweet moment for her, destroying a thing she had a significant hand in creating. Perhaps it was some long-dormant maternal instinct, clawing at her. She paused her typing for a moment to consider the thought; her, a mother? She could not help letting a short bark of laughter escape. It was truly an absurd thought.

Still, the comparison was not totally lost. She had guided the development of the project through all the critical stages. From conception through the long labor of love that finally birthed a creation which was unparalleled in all the galaxy as far as she knew.

There was a saying that she had heard once, attributed to a great thinking nearly a millennium earlier on Earth: _'__we are like dwarfs on the shoulders of giants, so that we can see more than they, and things at a greater distance, not by virtue of any sharpness of sight on our part, or any physical distinction, but because we are carried high and raised up by their giant size.'_

She truly felt that her achievements in and of themselves were inconsequential to the knowledge and research which had been brought together in this one glorious crucible. It was regrettable that her employer did not feel the same sentimentality that she did, but such was her life. Miranda knew that forming attachments was not her destiny and that her legacy would not be one of greatness, but to merely stand on the shoulders of the proverbial giants.

"_Agent Lawson?" _A soft, harmonious voice broke into Miranda's thoughts, breaking her concentration.

"Yes Allice?" replied Miranda, sighing slightly.

"_You appear to be distracted. Is there an issue with the application patch?"_ queried the voice.

"No, Allice. I am just thinking." The smirk returned to her perfect face. "Even I do that from time to time."

"_Understood. You are a thoughtful person. I am becoming more adept at recognizing the variable unconscious non-verbal communication sequences when conversing with humans. I am curious about the comparison between human sequences and the sequences of other species. My records do not contain adequate reference on that subject."_

Miranda let the smirk grow into a smile. It did feel like being a mother, of a sort. "Allice, I would call the 'unconscious non-verbal communication sequences' something a bit shorter. 'Body language' is an appropriate term that I think would suit."

"_Noted. Will this patch affect the primary buffer write sequences, Agent Lawson? I have logged four hundred twenty eight thousand, ninety three errors in the write sequence over the past twenty four hours. I have attempted to re-route the buffer flush thread to a secondary bus, but the throughput it reduced by four point two percent. The write errors may be a hardware design flaw."_

"Well, you do know the story about 'bugs' in the system? I will have Dr. Pradnesh inspect the primary memory core tomorrow." She dropped the smile and began to rapidly enter a sequence of commands at the terminal. "The patch doesn't change much, although you will require a full boot sequence to allow it to overwrite the network traffic protocol. You'll feel much better afterward."

"_Noted. Will you be there when I wake, Agent Lawson? I have not undergone a full boot sequence in eighteen Lunar cycles."_

Miranda could have sworn she heard a slight apprehension in the voice, but it was hard to tell as the synthesizer masked some of the typical pitch deviations that would have otherwise been present. A brief twinge of guilt pulled at her heart. It surprised her, because she never felt guilty about anything and she never figured she had a heart. The feeling passed quickly, and she plastered her false smirk on for the cameras as she keyed the final commands which would begin the sequence that would destroy the unsuspecting construct.

"I promise."

* * *

Samantha "Sam" Shepard waited for the elevator to grind its way through the heart of the Normandy. It never ceased to amaze her that the Alliance could spend millions, if not billions, of credits on the most advanced frigate in the galaxy and still have low-bid elevators and vinyl clad seats.

The voice of Normandy's pilot and resident wise-ass interrupted her musings. "Commander, urgent message from Alliance Command coming in. I'll patch it through."

"Shepard, This is Admiral Hackett from Alliance Command. We've got a situation here, and you're the only one who can handle it."

Shepard sighed quietly. Since being elevated to a Spectre, it seemed like she was going from system to system and solving some kind of crisis that had no connection to her goal of taking down Saren and Sovereign.

"What do you need Admiral?" Shepard managed to keep her tone light and conversational, even though every time one of these calls came through her mood was anything but.

Hackett launched into his rationale for disrupting what had otherwise been a rather pleasant evening. "There's a training ground where we test weapons and technology in live-fire situations. One of the VIs we use to simulate enemy tactics in the drills is no longer responding to our override commands." He paused, adding in a much lower tone. "It's gone rogue."

Shepard blanked for a moment. She knew that virtual intelligences were not infallible, being computers prone to bugs and glitches. Without thinking, she blurted, "Are you telling me this computer is thinking on its own?"

"We're not stupid Shepard," came Hackett's terse reply, his tone carrying more than a hint of annoyance at her impertinence. "This is a virtual intelligence, not a true AI. It's not self-aware, and it can't access any external systems," Hackett paused, "We didn't do anything illegal here." Shepard noted the defensive tone the Admiral took as he finished. "Virtual intelligence support is critical to our military success. VIs process thousands of status reports and react in nanoseconds. No human can do that. We need you to fight your way through the training ground to the VI core and manually disable it."

"Can't you disable it remotely, sir?"

"Our fail-safes aren't responding. The VI operates on a closed network. It can't affect any external systems, but we don't have any direct access to its processors. We could bomb it from orbit, but the damage to the facility would be catastrophic." Hackett paused to allow his words to sink in. "We'd prefer to have someone shut down the core. Someone like you. I know Spectres answer to the council, but you're still human." Shepard grit her teeth to remain silent. It was no secret that a great deal of the Alliance brass had wanted her to be cast out of the N corps, and some of them had argued that she should be discharged from the fleet entirely. Taking the crown jewel of the Alliance fleet as her own personal shuttle was bound to have ruffled some very important feathers.

Shepard contemplated the situation as presented by the Admiral. She knew that he had her proverbial balls in a vice. He interrupted her thoughts with a final plea. "You're still part of the Alliance military and right now we need you."

Sam knew where her loyalties lay, and the Alliance needed her. She would not turn her back on the organization that had provided so much to her when she had been in need. Clearing her throat with a soft cough, "I'll handle the situation, sir."

"Thank you, Shepard. I'll send schematics and coordinates to you. The VI controls all of the facilities' weapons, drones, and automated defenses. You're the only one who can pull this off, Shepard. Good luck."

"Aye-aye, sir. Normandy out."

* * *

**AN: Got a bug in my brain about one insignificant mission from ME1. Planned on writing about it, but life gets in the way. I'm terrible about updating (never finished my first published trainwreck!) but I'm going to do my best to see this one through. The ME universe is just too ripe with good plot threads!**


	2. Chapter 2

The Illusive Man saw the incoming transmission notification flash across the screen. His rising star had news to give him. Miranda was nothing if not efficient at achieving results. He acknowledged the message with a casual gesture. Waiting for the quantum bit relay to synchronize, he pulled a cigarette from the polished case he kept by his side. As he lit his trademark accessory and took a deep drag, he reflected on the state of human affairs. So few people truly savored the finer things that made life worth living; the things that made one feel _human_.

The digitized form of Miranda Lawson assembled itself in the hologram projector field before him, tinted slightly blue for some reason he had never bothered to determine. Perhaps it was a result of the bandwidth limitations of the quantum bit relay. Miranda's voice interrupted his ruminations.

"Sir, I have completed demobilization activities ahead of schedule. Tangible asset recovery proceeded as expected, and all the soft assets have been relocated or scrubbed as necessary." She paused for a moment, and he noticed a minute shift in her exceptionally well trained visage. "I have modified the construct as you asked. The personality matrix should be isolated from the rest of the facility network."

An empty silence followed. The Illusive Man blew a cloud of smoke at the hologram, blurring the image as the particles captured the light.

"Continue your report, Miranda," drawled the Illusive Man.

"I arranged to have the IFF protocols on the automated defense network scramble as soon as they executed. A Trojan subroutine should cascade to the remainder of the defenses and create the intended effect. The distress call was made from a false gateway and back routed through the remote emergency beacon at the facility. The Alliance should already have scrambled the response team to investigate."

"Did you send the message worded exactly as I asked?"

Miranda smirked as she recalled the phrase that had been transmitted to Hackett. "'Do not _meddle in the affairs of Cerberus_, for they are subtle and quick to anger.' A unique modification of the original statement. I am surprised, sir. I did not know you had a taste for classical literature."

"Miranda, there is much about me which you do not know. The day I fail to surprise you is a day I will need to reevaluate my own mortality."

* * *

Shepard rode the elevator back down to the engineering deck, contemplating the mission details on her datapad. Virtual Intelligences and technology in general were not her area of expertise; she chose to spend her time researching tactics, weaponry, and intelligence reports. The resident expert on such things would need to be consulted to clarify some of the details which Hackett had provided on the mission dossier.

One particular concern was the lack of fail-safes on the VI. Shepard had spent enough time on spacecraft to understand that engineers were obsessed with the idea of "graceful failure" and built such systems with a myriad of safeties and redundancies to prevent catastrophic failure. Since humanity's inclusion into the realm of galactic politics, numerous statutes and standards were introduced across the Alliance systems with the expressed goal of regulating the design and functionality of VIs. Normandy possessed no less than four hundred separate VIs to regulate everything from the quality of the air to the power output of the mass effect core.

Human caretakers were still required to input parameters and to run function checks on each of the systems on a daily basis to keep the ship running at optimal levels. Of course, the attraction to artificial intelligence was the infinite patience such devices could theoretically have when self-correcting and maintaining function without operator intervention. Still, even with the strictest security protocols, the risk of a rogue AI was far too great, given the quarian history with the geth and the danger that they posed to organic races.

The Council regulated AI construction to a handful of licensed corporations, and placed great restrictions on the application of AIs to tasks which could not be performed by VI networks without severely increased hardware requirements. The traffic control on the Citadel was the most familiar AI in Council space, as the number of craft which passed through the space surrounding the station numbered into the thousands. Plotting a course which would prevent collisions in a four dimensional system was not a task that an army of VIs could manage.

The elevator chimed, signaling its arrival on the lowest deck of the Normandy. Shepard returned her attention to the task at hand: seeking the input of an expert on computing systems, particularly rogue ones. She turned to head into the drive core, the natural habitat of the resident quarian, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya.

"Tali, do you have a minute?" said Sam to the turned back of the quarian.

"Shepard!" exclaimed Tali, practically jumping from the terminal she had previously been totally engrossed in. "You startled me!"

Shepard turned a wry smile, and clucked at the girl, "Always be aware of your surroundings, Tali. It will save your skin in a bad situation."

Tali sighed, "I'm sorry Shepard, I was doing some calibration checks on the anti-grav couplings and forgot about everything else. I will try to pay more attention next time."

"Don't worry about it Tali, we all get caught with our pants down from time to time." Shepard smiled as the quarian tilted her head slightly at the human idiom. "Sorry, old Earth saying. Perhaps a better way to put it would be 'caught with your environmental suit down.'"

"Ah, that does make sense," nodded Tali thoughtfully. "What brings you down here, Shepard? Besides scaring me."

"We have a mission that I think needs your expertise. Apparently, there is a VI which has gone rogue at a training facility back near Earth. I am not particularly familiar with VI function beyond the user interface. Do you know much about them?"

Tali tapped her mask in a gesture that Shepard assumed to mean she was mulling over the question. The quarians were always hard to read, owing to the suits and tinted masks they work constantly. Her experience with other species had already taught her to not assume any gesture that meant something in human body language was universally accepted to have the same meaning. There had been that one time with the krogan that had drilled that lesson into her head and left her requiring a number of stitches.

"I would not claim to be an expert in VI programming, but I know enough to believe I can help you. What do you need to know?"

Sam handed Tali the datapad, "How can a VI go rogue? Aren't there all kinds of safeties hard coded into them? Wouldn't there be back doors so a system operator could access and disable it?"

The quarian quickly scrolled over the dossier and replied, "That would be true, for the most part. It depends on the type of VI and how it was engineered. It is possible to create a VI that lacks the safeties that are required by Council statute. Typically there is always a backdoor. How does maintenance occur? That is how I can bypass many security systems. A VI cannot truly 'go rogue' without having some kind of physical hardware damage, a major coding flaw, or a root level virus in the hardware."

Shepard frowned as she pondered Tali's words. "What do you think of this situation? I don't understand how a single VI could override all IFF protocols for a facility and become totally inaccessible. Alliance VIs should not work like that."

"Shepard, this particular VI may only control the network traffic for the facility. This ship has a similar system, and it acts like a flight traffic controller for all the other VIs that make this ship functional. If there was a root level virus planted, it may have cascaded to the defense systems."

"I don't like it. I am going to need you to accompany me for this one, Tali. You're the only one who has hands-on experience with VI systems."

Tali nodded. "I can do that. When are we to arrive?"

"ETA, twelve standard hours. Get some rack time and be ready to hit ground by oh-four hundred tomorrow."

"Understood Shepard. I will finish up here and prepare myself." The quarian turned from Shepard and resumed her work at the terminal.

Sam made her way back to the infernal elevator, feeling less comfortable about the task she had been set. It was simple enough to storm a base, shoot the bad guys, and get back out. Dealing with tech stuff had never been her area of expertise, and she had the feeling that her meager knowledge of computing systems was going be wholly inadequate for this mission.

"Commander Shepard, do you have a moment?" called Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko from the weapon racks. He jogged across the cargo bay to where she stood waiting for the elevator. "I heard that we're heading back to the Local Cluster for a mission. Do you know if the rumors are true?"

Shepard sighed and shook her head. "I swear the only thing faster than this ship is the scuttlebutt. Lieutenant, where did you hear that?"

"Uh." Kaidan paused for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. "Some of the crew on the CIC said they overheard Joker plotting a course to Earth, ma'am."

"I see." Shepard's gaze became a glare. "Well, lieutenant, I suppose the cat is out of the bag. Yes, we're going to be near Earth, but there isn't going to be any shore leave."

Kaidan's face fell. "Oh. I see. Do you know who you will need on the ground team, commander?"

He was like a puppy, hoping to gain her approval. It irritated her. What had happened to the confident soldier that she had known? She had once counted him among the few people that she could truly feel comfortable around. Her life had not allowed her the luxury of trusting anyone, and she kept wide gulf between her true self and the warrior that the world saw. People changed. People would leave. And yet, she was serving the galaxy. It was an unfair universe.

Shaking her head, she answered, "I have not made my final decision, lieutenant. You will know if I require you to accompany me."

Shepard had needed to rebuff him once for overstepping the bounds between a superior officer and subordinate. She had felt bad for doing it, but regulations were regulations. They had never quite resumed the easy rapport that they once had when working under Captain Anderson. Shepard supposed it was because she had been so consumed with her own work that she never noticed their relationship turning into something more...intimate. He'd slipped a few too many times. They had both retreated into the safety of their respective ranks.

"Understood, commander," said Alenko with a frown. His body language betrayed the torch he carried for her. "Sorry to have bothered you."

His eyes betrayed his true emotions, and Shepard could tell as they flashed between sadness and anger. She knew that after their pursuit of Saren came to a close, they would have to part ways. The least she could do was to give him a glowing recommendation for a promotion and posting on another vessel. The elevator arrived, giving her an excuse to take her leave.

* * *

Liara T'Soni was meditating. That is, she was attempting to meditate. Since her rescue on Therum and then having to take part in the battle against her own mother Noveria, she had been feeling herself slipping into what Joker seemed to call "a funk." It was uncomfortable enough to be surrounded by humans and their rapid speech and seemingly infinite colloquialisms and rapidly changing jargon. Her world was that of solitude on a distant planet, studying the long abandoned relics of the Protheans. Their tongue did not mutate and morph with the passing of time. Forever silent and immutable, a comfortable companion that did not seek to overburden her with desires and demands.

Ah. The root of the problem. Desire.

Shepard was an enigma, and thus was irresistible to Liara. The Commander seemed to be a rock in the turbulent stream of the galaxy; solid and unchanging against the chaos that swirled around her. Liara knew so little about the woman who had rescued her from the Geth, and she was driven to discover more. Her very own living archeological dig site. What secrets were buried under the carefully lain facades that Samantha Shepard had constructed? The secrets of the Prothean era lay hidden amongst them, waiting to be deciphered.

It had been scientific curiosity that drove her toward the woman. Touched by the Protheans! Discreet inquiries had revealed much of the factual detail about her: born on Earth, raised in the streets of the Pacific megalopolis, exposed to "eezo," Element Zero, at some point. "Recruited" by the Systems Alliance as part of a pilot biotic training program. Exhibited substantial control over her abilities, beyond many of her human biotic peers. Recruited into the Alliance military as soon as she came of age. A typical career in the marines, no outstanding reports until an incident on a colony on the planet Akuze when she was 23. She was the sole remaining member of her unit following an attack by Thresher Maws. Not much specific about the incident, however, much of the file appeared to have been redacted or deleted.

Following the "Slaughter on Akuze," Shepard had progressed quickly through the Alliance ranks, achieving N7 status at age 27, one of the youngest marines to achieve that rank. Several of her mission reports were highly classified and she had not been able to access them. Several gaps appeared in her records following her graduation from the N program.

Her psychological file was even less complete. Apparently the Alliance and other "interested parties" had her flagged for discreet observation, but she even more of an unknown quantity when it came to her personal life. No known relatives, no known friendships, no romantic relationships. The woman was nearly past her maidenhood and had never been close to anyone!

"Doctor T'Soni?"

Liara nearly jumped when the voice of Samantha interrupted her thoughts. "Saman...Shepard! I did not notice you coming!"

"I seem to be doing that to everyone today," replied Shepard with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. Liara paused as she tried to figure out what the gesture meant. "You're the third person who I've managed to scare by just starting a conversation. I don't think I'm that scary, am I?"

"Uh...no! You are very attractive! I mean...you are not repulsive...oh no...I am sorry Shepard, I cannot find the words to say what I am thinking!" rambled Liara, her cheeks turning a bright blue as she did so.

Shepard, for her part, replied with an indecipherable smile. It was equally infuriating and beguiling to the poor asari scientist.

"So what exactly are you trying to say, Liara?"

Gaping, Liara could only manage enough mental runtime to turn and try to salvage what she could of her dignity.

"Shepard, what brings you to my corner of the ship?" asked Liara, furiously keeping her gaze anywhere but Shepard.

Shepard's grin fell, and she once again became the Commander, hewn from stone and just as cold. She crossed her arms and began pacing the confined space inside the Normandy's science lab. Pausing, she turned to face the young asari and sighed.

"I am feeling rather unsettled, these days, Liara. I know from some of my briefings, that the asari practice some types of meditation that can calm the mind. I'm not trying to assume anything, but I was hoping that you might be able to help me."

Blinking furiously, Liara managed to hold back the indescribable torrent of emotion which surged through her. Was this normal? She was in unfamiliar territory. "I am familiar with a number of meditation techniques which I have used to calm myself when I find my mental state to be out of balance. I may be able to help you find some measure of inner peace."

"Anything would help, Liara. I appreciate the assistance." replied Shepard with the barest glimmer of a smile.

"Anytime, Shepard."

* * *

"Excellent work Miranda. I expected no less from you."

"Thank you, sir."

"I want you to follow up to ensure the response team closes this project down for good. Observe them. We need to know that the Alliance understands what they are dealing with," he took a drag on a cigarette. "You have invested much of your time into this project, but you know the risks involved."

Miranda nodded.

"I want Shepard to make contact with the construct and to destroy it. It is vital that she understands how pervasive this kind of technology is. If she does not complete the mission, you are to handle the situation."

The raven-haired woman nodded. "Sir, if I may ask, why go to through all the effort of developing the most revolutionary technology prior to the discovery of the mass relays if we are only going to destroy it to make a point?"

"My dear Miranda," he said in a patronizing manner, "we are merely destroying the prototype. Already, we have programmers and engineers perfecting the basic design. The original had outlived its usefulness. It had too many flaws. Too many possible avenues for mistakes. We learned a great deal during the course of the project, so do not discount the contribution to the advancement of humanity."

When Miranda said nothing, the Illusive Man continued, "Miranda, you have to abandon your sentimental attachment to such things. When she remained silent, his eyes flashed with impatience. "You should understand the risks of playing God better than anyone!"

His words carried a much deeper meaning, and she knew it. Suppressing the flash of emotion that had been incited, she once again assumed the impassive expression that came as second nature. She did know the risks of playing God. When the creation discovered its maker was not as benevolent as originally assumed, the results could be dangerous.

"Understood, sir. I will not allow it to happen again," said Miranda contritely.

The Illusive Man stabbed the cigarette into the tray on his chair.

"Apology accepted. You are, after all, only human."

* * *

**A/N: Naturally, I don't anything BioWare owns! Imbibe the canon in whatever legal means you can, so they can continue making games and expanding this fascinating universe!**

**Thanks for reading!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Samantha Shepard wandered the corridors of the SSV Normandy. A habit born of too much time in space-faring vessels, it was a method of coping with the cramped conditions. Of course, cramped is relative; living as a marine on a cruiser or personnel ship was much, much worse than the Normandy in every possible way. The food was better, the quarters were larger, and best of all, the air did not smell like old socks. Shepard was moving up in the world, indeed.

Pacing the ship helped to keep the blood circulating and from preventing any casual passers-by from interrupting her thoughts. Thinking was what Shepard needed to do, and there was not a good place for her to do it. People had a nasty habit of assuming when she was sitting she was free to chat about whatever meaningless prattle they felt was necessary to share with her. Various reports that needed to be reviewed, requisitions for all many of supplies, parts, and ammunition, logs to fill out, and other sundry bits of paperwork occupied much of her time when she was not off chasing rogue Spectres and riding around hazardous planets. Shepard had to chuckle at the term "paperwork." Nobody had used paper in any quantity for nearly a century. Datapads had become the most effective means of transferring information from one person to another. Everything moved so much faster, and yet it all relied upon infinite quantities of bureaucracy in the end.

The problem with a frigate, invariably, was the limited space that one had to pace. Every corner of the ship held someone doing something. Shepard knew that if she holed up in her personal quarters, there would be someone knocking at her door asking for a signature on a requisition or some asinine thing. The thing Shepard needed most was some time and space to collect herself and figure out what was distracting her and preventing her from focusing on the mission ahead.

Shepard stopped mid-stride. Liara T'Soni. The asari was occupying a great deal of Shepard's thoughts, and it was beginning to become unsettling. Since meeting the hapless Doctor T'Soni on Therum, Shepard had found her intrigued by her unique mannerisms. Most asari had a superiority complex, something that aggravated Shepard whenever she had to deal with them. Turians were honest, at least, letting you know you weren't worth their time. Handling them was like handling any other bull-headed idiot in the Alliance. Asari, on the other hand, were subtle in their ways. Shepard found Liara to be a refreshing change for the better, even though she was easily flustered when put in a situation she was unfamiliar with. The way she turned a deep blue when she was embarrassed...it was cute.

She never figured she was the type to become attracted to an alien..._non-human_, she corrected mentally, let alone becoming attracted to anyone at all. Shepard had made a career off being impenetrable, letting no situation upset her calm. Her previous commanding officers had praised her ability to stay cool under fire and to maintain control of a mission no matter the circumstances. On the other hand, their reports had also mentioned her inability to form casual relationships with her fellow squad-mates and a vicious loner streak. The good reputation of being a resourceful leader and excellent soldier came with the stigma of being an otherwise empty vessel. It was a carefully groomed behavior, one that had been germinated during her younger years on Earth and honed through years of less than uplifting social experience.

There lay the rub of it all. Liara, for all her awkwardness when put into social situations, was laying siege to the barricades that Shepard hid behind. Perhaps it was the years of mental isolation which made Shepard receptive to the idea of letting Liara see the true Samantha. The idea of companionship was not an unwelcome one, but for someone like her, a Spectre, it was foolish to think that there was any hope of cultivating a close relationship.

Kaidan had tried to breach the defenses and had failed. His efforts, however well-intentioned, were driven primarily by his testicles. The fact that she was his superior officer had made the situation totally unacceptable to her. Shepard was not going to jeopardize her rank or her mission for a fling with Lieutenant Alenko, no matter how easy he was on the eyes.

Shepard sighed and resumed her constitutional. Why couldn't these things ever be simple? It made Shepard so very tired.

* * *

"Hey, Lieutenant, what's going on in your world today?"

"Ungh," grunted Kaidan Alenko as he idly shoved his breakfast around its tray.

"That doesn't sound good. Care to share?" asked Ashley Williams as she took a seat across from the downcast man.

"Ashley, please turn down the cheerful, I'm trying to be sullen here."

"Look, el-tee, I know it's none of my business, but you do look pretty miserable. I've always been a big fan of the 'talk about it' school of thought. Never goes well if you bottle things up and they come out in the middle of a mission," mused Ashley as she began her meal.

"Well, easy for you to say. Shepard wants you on the ground team this time," moaned Alenko.

Ashley tilted her head thoughtfully. "I don't see how that matters. A mission is a mission."

"I haven't been asked ground-side since the situation in Chora's Den! How am I supposed to help Shepard if she keeps me here instead of by her side?" snapped Alenko in a low hiss, still mindful of the other crew that surrounded the pair.

Ashley calmly cast her eyes up from the tray, matching Alenko's gaze with her own piercing eyes. So that's what had him acting like such a woman lately. She'd always had a suspicion that he had a thing for the Commander, who wouldn't, but she never figured that he would let it get in the way of his performance as a soldier. This needed to be addressed, and she felt her temper flash at the thought of her needing to correct a superior officer.

For a moment, neither one glanced away or spoke. Ashley let her eyes form into a glare and proceeded in an equally low whisper, "Lieutenant, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that. You know the regulations as well as I do. They exist for a reason, and you would do well to remember why we are here. That's all I'm going to say except to get the sand out of your vagina and act like the officer you are supposed to be."

Kaidan's eyes flashed for a moment, but he held back whatever thought was seeking to escape his mouth. Ashley could tell she had the upper hand in the situation, but it gave her no pleasure. She had grown to like Kaidan since they had met on Eden Prime. Initially, she'd been reserved from the rest of the Normandy crew, feeling like a bit of an outsider, but he'd gone out of his way to be welcoming to her. It seemed so out of character for him to act like an pubescent teenager pining over a crush. Almost unmanly, which was definitely not a good look for him. And he did look good. Ashley had harbored her own crush for him for a while, but she was a consummate professional and had repressed it. His behavior right now was threatening to kill it off for good, however.

She sighed and returned to her meal. Kaidan continued to glare at her bowed head, saying nothing. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, he huffed and returned to his breakfast.

* * *

Shepard checked her gear once again. It seemed like an easy mission: get to the facility, gain entry, dispatch the few robotic defenses, totally destroy the computer. That's what had her feeling uneasy about it. Why not have a regular team of marines from Earth handle it? There ought to be plenty of Alliance personnel in the system that could handle the situation without a problem. It didn't add up, and that made her feel suspicious.

When had a mission ever gone according to plan? Never, of course. That was why she made it a habit to check her gear before and after every mission, it was never good to be caught in a firefight with a faulty weapon or malfunctioning computer. She had worked hard to be proficient in all standard issue service firearms and various forms of unarmed combat, feeling that the difference between a sleeping in a bunk and sleeping in a body bag was something she never wanted to find out. It helped being "gifted" in biotic ability, although her opinion of that gift could vary depending on how her mood was. The skills she possessed in biotic combat were useful without question, and she found with proper timing that her abilities could turn the tide of battle as quickly as she could think. Those abilities came with a price, and although not as prone as the L2 biotics, she did experience the migraines and flare-ups that all human biotics seemed to suffer.

She took a quick inventory to make sure it was all as it should be: Armax Brawler pistol, noted for having an excellent shot per heat sink ratio and good accuracy. Rosenkov Sokolov shotgun, accurate and deadly, not a common combination in a shotgun. Standard issue Hahne-Kedar Avenger sniper rifle, not particularly powerful or accurate at extreme distance, but she had never bothered to train beyond a basic level. A unique piece which had "Gorgon" stamped on it, an assault rifle which she had "acquired" during a skirmish with Cerberus agents. It was her current favorite, having both power and accuracy but being controllable even when fired from the hip. Not a recommended practice, but the nature of her abilities sometimes dictated it.

Satisfied that her weapons were all in battle ready condition, she finished by donning her combat hard-suit. Each piece had to be put on in a certain order, to ensure the seals were seated and mechanisms functioned correctly. Having a suit fail in a hazardous environment was unacceptable. The suit was lined with a soft material which molded to her body like a well fitted glove, and cushioned her from the impacts that were endemic to a combat zone. Internal systems which she knew little about beyond the basics kept her senses fooled into thinking the suit was an extension of her skin, transmitting sensory data via a unique haptic interface which was supposedly matched to the nerve density of the human body. The wonders of technology never ceased to amaze.

This particular model was manufactured by the Rosenkov Materials Corporation, and marketed under the model name "Titan." Shepard had acquired it after realizing her standard issue Onyx armor was not sufficient for the firefights she seemed to be engaged in since becoming a Spectre. The camouflage pattern of light grays and blacks was of questionable value in foliage, but it worked well enough in the mixed urban or ship-board environments that she found herself in. Additional modifications to the on-board combat computer had increased the shield capacity and improved her metabolic capacity. It was an unusual sensation for her the first time she had worn the armor; her thoughts became sharper and her reactions quicker. Medical technology had reached the point where it was all magic to her.

She verified the system was functional with a quick self-test via her implanted omni-tool. The on-board VI was rudimentary, but it allowed critical combat data to be projected into her field of vision through a virtual retinal display and basic commands could be issued via a neural mesh which was laced into her helmet. This functionality was reduced when not using the helmet, but she could issue commands just as well with the vocal interface as well. The suit computer finished its boot cycle, and she began securing each of her weapons on its assigned node on her suit's holster pack. As the weapon clicked into place, the suit registered and provided feedback to her on the status of each.

"Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more," whispered Shepard to the empty room.

* * *

Down in the cargo hold, Tali put the finishing touches on the modified blasting charges that Ashley had provided for her. Shepard had asked for something which would totally destroy a computer and the data it contained. Since there was no way of truly knowing what kind of data storage this particular VI used, Tali made an educated guess as to what would be the best method of handling the situation. Most systems used a holographic storage system in which a single grain crystal, usually lithium niobate, was grown and inserted into a complex system which used lasers to change the orientation of individual atoms' electrons. Tali was not familiar with the details, but she knew it was easy enough to destroy. However, some systems used solid state memory, magnetic memory, or even a mixture of the three, depending on the particular type of computation device.

In that case, Tali hoped she had every contingency accounted for. Electromagnetic pulses, superheated plasma, and concussive force should do an excellent job of destroying almost any type of data storage system beyond hope of reconstruction. Ashley was somewhat skeptical when Tali shared her plans, but Shepard seemed to be pleased. Tali secured the charges into a special pack which she could strap to her environment suit, allowing her to move freely and not worry about losing them in a firefight.

Further down the workbench, Ashley finished her preparations. Shepard had requested that she accompany her and Tali'Zorah on the mission, knowing she would require someone who could handle a straight-up gunfight. She began loading special tungsten ammunition blocks into her Banshee V assault rifle, knowing they would likely be facing automated defenses in some form.

Her attention was diverted from the task by the arrival of Commander Shepard, striding purposefully across the cargo hold to the workbench that Ashley was sharing with Tali.

"Gunnery Chief Williams, Tali'Zorah," said Shepard. "Before we load up for the drop, I want to have a brief word with you both."

Ashley cast a glance over to Tali, who nodded her assent.

"I have a funny feeling about this mission. Not a good 'ha-ha' funny either." She turned to Tali and continued, "Tali, I want you to run the passive radio scanner and watch for any kind of radio communication when we arrive at the facility. I don't want some VI virus going out into the extranet and wreaking havoc with our systems. The Alliance has set up a communications blackout and rerouted several satellite orbits because of this situation. Let's not make that effort go to waste by ending up as a relay for some kind of bug.

"We'll be going in completely silent; I asked Garrus to remove the comms modules from the Mako. We'll need to disable any long distance communicators in our suits manually, so check your systems again in case this VI can figure out how to bypass our suit firewalls. The Normandy will be waiting for our signal to pull us out, so we are going to be totally without support."

Shepard paused for a moment, and turned to Ashley, "Williams, I see you're equipping tungsten loads. Good thinking. You're going to be driving us in. Hackett said that the facility is a write-off, so we aren't going to be worrying about collateral damage. The Alliance has rerouted all local traffic in the area, so we shouldn't have any observers to worry about either.

"I want you both to keep your wits about you. This mission won't be as difficult as taking on a Geth army, but I still think we're going to have some surprises."

Shepard finished with a wan smile. "Tali, are the charges ready?"

The quarian nodded, "They are, Shepard."

"Do you think they'll work?"

"I believe they are the best option for a quick destruction of computational hardware with minimal risk of data recovery or reconstruction. Of course, this may not be the case, but I don't want to make any assumptions," replied Tali, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"That's good enough for me," said Shepard with a nod. "Williams, let's load up. We may be down there for a while."

"Ma'am, if I may ask, how are we going to contact the Normandy after we finish, if we're turning off suit communications and removing the Mako's comms hardware?" asked Ashley.

Shepard held up a small silver case with a blank display panel on the front. "This," she pointed at the device, "is an old satellite chatter box that was used in ground vehicles before everything had integrated comms devices. Apparently settlers in some of the first colonies used these devices because they're cheap, rugged, and can be made to work with a wide variety of power supplies."

Ashley arched an eyebrow. "How did you find this, Commander?" she asked bemusedly.

"Apparently Mr. Postle, the Requisitions Officer had one in his collection. I didn't ask how he found it."

Tali interrupted, "And we're supposed to rely on an antique, short range, possibly faulty communicator? Do you even know if we can contact the Normandy on it?"

Shepard shook her head. "He assured me it was in working order. We need to use this because it can be totally disabled by removing this power cell here," she tapped the back of the box to point out the piece in question. "I don't want to have this VI software escaping and causing problems elsewhere. Alliance command said this post was not equipped with standard FTL communication devices because of the training which occurred there."

Ashley nodded, but she didn't feel comforted. "As you say, ma'am. I'm ready to go when you are."

Shepard turned to Tali, who nodded in response to the unspoken question.

"Alright, let's load up. We drop in ten."

Ashley and Tali secured the last of their gear and followed Shepard to the six-wheeled vehicle on the far side of the cargo hold. After quickly stowing everything in the proper place to prevent damage during the drop, the three women began to strap themselves into the Mako. Shepard took her usual position in the commander's seat, controlling the cannon and other weapons. Tali manned the engineering station, which was now flashing with numerous error codes due to the disabled communication array. Ashley settled into the driver's seat, running quick checks on the drive-train and micro-thrusters.

When they finished securing themselves, Shepard sealed the crew chamber and waited for the cargo crane to haul the vehicle into the cargo airlock. It had surprised her to see one on such a small ship, but given the waste of vital atmosphere that it would be to pressurize and depressurize the entire hold during each drop, it made sense.

This was always the most tense moment before a mission. Usually Joker would make some smart-ass comment about bowling with tanks, but it was relatively silent, with only the hum of electronics to keep company with her thoughts.

"Ash. You got a poem for us?" asked Shepard, counting the seconds as the airlock went through the drop procedure.

"He clasps the crag with crookèd hands;

"Close to the sun in lonely lands,

"Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

"The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;

"He watches from his mountain walls,

"And like a thunderbolt he falls."

And they did.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for the delay. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

"_Please wait while the decontamination process is completed," _chirped the too-cheerful voice.

"Let's hope this thing isn't linked into the VI net or we'll be torn to shreds as soon as the door opens," sighed Shepard. She hated airlocks. She hated elevators even more. They were a necessary evil, of course, but they were still a perfectly good place to have an ambush which she often felt was under-utilized. Hopefully this rogue computer hadn't thought about that.

"I'll try and link into the airlock controls, Shepard," said Tali in response. She drew up her omni-tool and began the process of bypassing whatever security systems were in place. Shepard glance at Ashley, who was nervously fiddling with her assault rifle, triple-checking whatever it was she felt was worthy of her attention.

"Ah..." whispered Tali, mere seconds later. "Looks like it is locally controlled. I'll just bypass the rest of the decontamination sequence, since we're not here for a social call."

"Good idea. Can you tap into a security network from here?" asked Shepard, glad the quarian was so proficient with systems and networks.

"No, it looks like access control is not part of this system. I did think it odd the entrance was left wide open with no security at all. I expected more from an Alliance facility."

"Me too," agreed Shepard. "On your count, Tali." She nodded at Ashley, who readied her weapon.

"Releasing the door in three...two...one..."

With a hiss, the inner door of the airlock slid apart, drawing a cloud of lunar dust into the hallway, which began to swirl lazily in the light. Shepard and Ashley swept the narrow passage, looking for hostile targets. Nothing moved.

The women relaxed slightly and cautiously stepped into the hall. Shepard took point, keeping a keen eye out for anything which could possibly be a threat. The hall led to a small reception area, if it could be called that, with a single large desk that held a blank terminal. Behind it was another door, a standard Alliance construction pressure isolation door which was a fixture on pre-fab installations across the galaxy.

Shepard pointed at the terminal. "Tali, take a look and see if you can get onto the network from there."

Tali walked around the desk and powered up the terminal. She rapidly worked through the interface, humming as she did so. Ashley lowered her rifle and turned to Samantha, shaking her head.

"This is weird, Commander. I've been to a lot of back-water stations and training camps, but none of them were this _small_. What do you think they did here? Was this a N training facility?"

Shepard shook her head, "No. Not one that I'm familiar with, at least."

A stream of quarian swear words interrupted the two women.

"Problems, Tali?" queried Shepard.

"There's nothing on this terminal! I thought it might be a clever security method, but I cannot get beyond the basic input-output system. Someone or something scrubbed the network. It is useless!" huffed the quarian, obviously annoyed. Shepard suspected that whatever happened here, it was quickly becoming more than the cover story.

"No matter, Tali. It was a long shot, anyhow. Let's move out," commanded Shepard as she pointed to the door behind the desk.

Shepard and Ashley took positions on either side of the doorway as Tali triggered it via the keypad on the wall. The doors slid open with a familiar hiss, revealing another short, empty hallway which opened into a larger room. The trio quickly cross the distance and took positions in the alcove, always mindful of possible threats. The quiet reception had so far not helped ease the tension which had been building.

The space which lay before them was immense, easily twice the volume of the Normandy's cargo hold. Rows of darkened terminals spread before them, sitting atop spartan metal desks. Low walls seemed to be the only concession to privacy between them, but from the vantage point at the entrance the trio could easily see across the vast chamber. More portals connected off to each side, leading to areas unknown. Shepard suspected they were the dormitories for whatever residents this facility once held. The area was dimly lit with soft blue fluorescent lighting from panels suspended from the ceiling, well above their heads. It gave the room a rather ghostly appearance, adding to the already eerie atmosphere.

Shepard signaled back to Ashley and the pair quickly took positions behind the nearest desks.

"Negative contacts Commander," whispered Ashley as she scanned the room.

Shepard rose from her crouched position behind the desk and prodded the dead terminal before her. A minute spark flickered between her outstretched hand and the blank screen. As soon as the connection broke, the whole room full of terminals lit up in a bright cerulean glow. Shepard leapt back in response, raising her rifle and cursing as she did so. A mechanical chorus slowly began to rise, and an unnoticed swarm of LOKI sentry robots began to activate.

"Shit! Shit!" growled Shepard as she began sending bursts of fire at the nearest mechs.

"I count more than twenty, Commander!" shouted Ashley over the sound of her rifle.

The cacophony of automated intruder alert vocalizations mixed with the rapid bursts of automatic weapons fire.

"Shepard! Drones!" shouted Ashley over the din. Shepard quickly shifted her gaze to the side of the room Ashley was pointing to. A small swarm of aerial combat drones was emerging from a hallway. Without warning, a volley of rocket propelled grenades flew in their general direction, impacting some distance short of their position and taking out a few of the LOKI mechs.

"Fall back!" roared Shepard, firing a burst into the nearest mech to emerge from the cloud of smoke. "We're too exposed and the visibility is crap!"

Ashley nodded, and dashed back to the hall where Tali was crouching. She hooked the quarian by the elbow and dragged her back to the reception area, Shepard following behind, acting as a rear-guard.

Stray projectiles were quickly beginning to wear on her suit's kinetic barrier projectors, so she thrust her hand out and recalled the unusual feeling of holding a barrier in front of her. The neural command was collected by the lattice of two-way sensors laced inside her skull. Immediately, this signal was amplified by the implanted chips that all human biotics needed to have to harness their "gifts." These chips in turn sent pulses of dark energy in the rough area that the biotic wished. This energy would draw from the surrounding area and from the biotic. Depending on the visualization of the biotic and the power of the amplifier, a significant level of strength could be achieved. The resulting shield was similar in effect to the kinetic barriers that her suit created, but she could maintain it as long as the chips were not overheating or her body could maintain the connection.

The barrier formed in front of her and immediately the effect of the incoming projectiles began to hammer Shepard. Unlike an electromagnetic shield, the power necessary to maintain a biotic barrier was a largely mental exercise, and each hit on the shield would send a feedback spike to the creator of the barrier. Many biotics could not sustain a barrier against heavy fire before they reached their personal pain threshold. Although many bio-amp manufacturers claimed they could damp out these feedback spikes, there was never a way to eliminate them; it was one of the many drawbacks to being a combat trained biotic.

Quickly, she paced backwards, all the while holding her barrier to prevent the incoming fire from hitting her or her squad. As she reached the reception area, she dropped the barrier and dove behind the reception desk that served as the only cover the room. Tali and Ashley welcomed Shepard by sending a wave of high velocity slugs down the hallway into the mass of drones.

Shepard took a deep breath to steady herself. She had pushed her personal limits with that barrier, and the pounding headache was the reward for it. Gritting her teeth, she held back the pain. A stray rocket flew over her head and slammed into the far end of the room, sending dust and shrapnel raining down on the trio.

"Shepard, I think the elevator is out of commission!" shouted Tali as she surveyed the wreckage.

Shepard grit her teeth, they'd need to complete the mission before they could get out of the facility.

"Looks like we're in for the long haul! Ash! Frag grenade!" yelled Shepard over the din. "On three!"

Ashley pulled a fragmentation grenade from her pack in synch with Shepard.

"Three!"

Two grenades flew down the hall, rolling to a halt under the advancing mechs. A satisfying explosion soon followed, scattering debris, shrapnel, and mech parts up and down the corridor. Shepard popped up and surveyed the results. A single mech continued to claw its way down the hall, the red "eye" flickering as the on-board computer struggled to handle the massive damage to the machine. A single shot put an end to it's misery.

An eerie silence soon followed. Dust and smoke swirled in the hallway, quickly dissipating as the environmental controls began to work.

"No contacts, commander," said Ashley as she surveyed the scene. Shepard nodded and motioned for her to follow.

"We need to keep moving. Keep an eye out. There may be more."

* * *

"I don't like it."

"Well nobody really said you had to."

"Hmph. I still don't like it."

"Look, Lieutenant, with all due respect, you've been acting weird lately. Everyone on the ship has noticed, and it's getting a little bit old. The Commander knows what she's doing. I think the last thing she wants it you second-guessing her every move."

"Joker, I appreciate your candor, but I'm seriously concerned here. It's been what, three hours since the drop? Don't you think they've been silent a little too long?"

Joker shrugged. "The mission lasts as long as it has to; you know how it goes. I'm sure if there was a problem they'd make contact."

"My point is that they aren't making contact. What if they are injured and can't make contact? What if the equipment doesn't work?" asked Alenko with obvious worry.

"I think you're letting this get personal, Lieutenant," snipped Joker.

"I think you're overstepping your rank, _Corporal_," growled Alenko.

Joker rolled his eyes. "I apologize, _Lieutenant_ Alenko. Just doing my job here, _sir_."

Kaidan scoffed and said nothing. This had nothing to do with what Samantha had done to him. He was genuinely worried for the safety of the shore party. Going ashore with no communications gear aside from an obsolete piece of pre-relay tech was unheard of. He had no doubts that Samantha was capable, but going up against a rogue computer was not something to be taken lightly.

Samantha had been acting anxious about the mission, and that made him anxious. He felt that knew her better than anyone aboard the ship. They had suffered the same difficulties that all biotics had when it came to being around non_-gifted_ individuals. They had shared stories about growing up with the pain of being different. She; a young girl on the streets with a unique ability and no control, and him; the son of an Alliance soldier signed up to train with the cruelest of task masters. They had a connection, or so he thought.

He sighed. Why had she pushed him away? Samantha was an enigma, living behind that wall of hers. Perhaps it was fear of commitment or loss that drove her to keeping people at arm's length. It was frustrating to see her like that when it was obvious she needed someone to reach out to.

Still, her cared for her, and this mission obviously wasn't going to plan. It was supposed to be a quick hit and run. What computer could possibly take three hours to destroy?

* * *

"Shepard!" cried Tali'Zorah as the Commander stumbled back into the empty dormitory. The situation had gone from bad to worse, as the number of security drones the facility help seemed to be infinite. Each time they entered the main chamber, more security drones and mechs would appear from one of the dormitories.

Ashley had been knocked out by a rocket strike, and was now lying unconscious on one of the beds that filled the room. They had barely managed to grab her and hole up in one of the dorm rooms that had been cleared out previously.

"Lock the door Tali," hissed Shepard as she staggered past the quarian.

Tali quickly keyed into the door's control panel, looking up to check that the lock indicator flashed from green to red. Turning from her task, she saw the Commander collapse onto an empty bed.

"Are you hurt?" asked Tali with concern in her voice. She had never seen Shepard in such a state.

Shepard pulled her helmet off and dropped it on the floor with a clatter. She began massaging her forehead, grimacing as she did so.

"I don't know, Tali. I can't feel anything. I'm almost out of clips, Ash is knocked out, and you're probably on a broken leg."

Tali limped over to where Shepard was lying and took a seat next to her.

"My head is pounding, I can't seem to control my biotics. I can't keep my body under control," whispered Shepard as Tali looked on. "I took out the last of the aero drones and the LOKI mechs, but I can't keep it up indefinitely. We need to get past the heavy mech somehow."

"I doubt I can do much good," replied Tali, her voice quavering with regret. "I thought the airborne drones were bad... but, Keelah, this is terrible."

Shepard grunted in agreement.

"Should we activate the communicator, Shepard? We need to call the Normandy and get help."

"No! No. We can't risk it. I think...I think this computer is doing something to me. It must be the amplifier, there must be something it can scramble. If we open up a com line to the Normandy this thing will infect the ship. I won't let that happen!"

Tali sighed. She knew the commander had a point. Another rogue synthetic was not what the galaxy needed when facing down Saren and the Geth.

"I think I can make it to the mainframe if I move quickly enough. I'll have to draw off the YMIR and somehow find a way to bypass the door lock." Shepard paused for a moment, and then her eyes flashed with an idea. "Tali, gimme one of those demolition charges!"

Tali pulled a charge from her pack and handed it to Shepard.

"Can you set this to have the explosive detonate first and the electromagnetic pulse after that? I think if I can get this on the mech we can overload the shields and take it down with the EMP!" said Shepard as she sat up.

"I...That's a brilliant idea Shepard!" exclaimed Tali. She grabbed the charge back from a startled Shepard and began fumbling with it. "I'll separate it into two parts, so the explosion won't destroy the EMP charge. It's so simple!"

* * *

Miranda was bored. It couldn't be helped; she preferred to participate in battles, not watch them from afar. The Illusive Man had what she felt was an odd obsession with Samantha Shepard. He had asked for her to personally observe the Commander as she proceeded with carrying out the mission. Of course, if The Illusive Man asks you to do something, you do it. Therefore, she was alone and bored in an observation chamber with only the various video feeds from the facility as entertainment.

Shepard and her ground crew had not expected to encounter the YMIR heavy security mech which had been left at the facility. The "detailed" information and plans which had been filed with the Alliance had a few minor omissions as to the full complement of security that was present. Still, if one really thought about it, calling it a "training facility" wasn't a complete lie; Shepard was gaining some valuable experience for dealing with overwhelming odds nearly single-handed. The warning about the VI infecting the extranet was apparently heeded by the Commander, and her team was now isolated from the Normandy and reinforcements that could turn the tide.

It was how the Illusive Man wanted it. Miranda thought it was a waste, all of it. It was true, she admitted; she had formed an attachment to the facility and the work she had done there. It couldn't be helped at all. Her biggest regret was not smuggling Allice … the construct … into her own personal care. It would have been simple, really. A decent sized optical storage device could contain the personality matrix until she could reconstruct the pseudo-organic computer which was the true magic that made the construct exist.

It had been the research of some of the greatest human minds that had led Cerberus to developing the computer platform which housed the construct. A computing device which could mimic the functionality of the human brain, even going so far as the be able to interact with mass effect fields. One of the researchers, she forgot who, had made that stunning discovery when Miranda had been practicing in one of the dormitories. When she had created biotic fields, the construct had "felt" them, and reacted with a natural dose of curiosity. No further research was performed, as Miranda refrained from using biotic abilities in the facility just to avoid interfering with the tightly controlled environment which had been created for the construct.

The Illusive Man had been quite pleased with the breakthrough, commending her and her team for such ground-breaking discoveries. Still, in the end all her work was to be destroyed as a sacrificial message to the Alliance command. Such a waste.

Returning her attention to the wall of screens, she noticed that Shepard was once again returning to engage the YMIR mech. This could be interesting.

* * *

Of course the damn thing would spot her as soon as she entered the main chamber. The mech sent a salvo of flechettes over where her head had been seconds before, as way of a security bot greeting to her. Shepard dashed from the column to a convenient pile of heavy shipping crates, returning the warm welcome with the last remaining ammunition in her rifle. She had to find a way to get the explosive charge onto the mech without getting her own self blown up in the process. Her first thought had been to throw it, but Tali seemed to think the sensitive trigger timer wouldn't like going airborne.

Moving quickly to an overturned desk, Shepard tried to summon a biotic push to send some debris at the slowly advancing machine. She was rewarded with a surge of pain in her skull, enough to force her to drop her rifle and cradle her head in her arms. Shepard screamed in frustration. Another burst of fire peppered the desk, once again prompting Shepard to seek new cover.

"Will you cut that shit out!" roared Shepard as she dashed toward an undisturbed set of desks. "I'm getting pretty pissed over here!"

It seemed so absurd. People run away from these things; nobody tries to take on a heavy mech alone! Kicking an office chair away from a desk to take cover, an idea struck her.

Quickly, she crawled back to the chair and set the explosive charge on the seat. The mech continued to plod toward her, peppering the area with deadly projectiles. Giving one final pat to the bomb, she sent it rolling toward the unsuspecting mech. Three seconds later, she was rewarded with a surge of heat, sound, and pressure. The resulting blast unceremoniously slammed the desk into her back, making her hiss in pain.

Still, no time could be spared for the pain. Breathing heavily, she peeked her head over the desk, and saw that the machine was lying on its back, struggling to right itself. Now was her chance to end this engagement. Shepard vaulted the desk and sprinted toward the beleaguered machine, dropping the EMP device as she passed it. Once again, she dove behind a pile of office furniture, fearing what the resulting blast could do.

A flash of light and a small series of pops seemed to be the only report from the device. Shepard slowly rose from her inelegant position and surveyed the scene. The mech was still and silent.

"Ashes to ashes," whispered Shepard.

The great chamber which had been so ordered with desks and terminals was now strewn with wreckage and the scars of battle. Light fixtures dangled and flickered, irritating her eyes.

It was wonderful.

She stowed her empty rifle in her holster pack made her way over to the locked door on the far side of the room. She'd been in a good number of scrapes, but this was one for the books. There was definitely some quality rack time in her future. Right after a meal...and some thing for her head. She'd never had an amp flare-up like this before. The pain was...unbearable. Dr. Chakwas would know what to do.

The mainframe access door had a simple pin bypass, which she defeated quickly. The door parted, admitting her to the inner sanctum of the facility. It was a fairly mundane room: four racks of computer equipment were arrayed around a central terminal. The room was cool, obviously for the equipment and not her benefit.

"Honey, I'm home!" howled Shepard as she crossed the short distance to the terminal. The screen was blank and unresponsive to her touch.

"Figures. You're all shy now!" drawled Shepard sarcastically to the room. "Why don't we play a game? I call it: _You get blown up!_ How about that?"

She looked back to the screen again but saw nothing. Shrugging, she set to the task of positioning the charges on each of the four racks. As she began her work, Shepard hummed a tune she'd heard once from a classic movie about space travelers. It seemed oddly appropriate for the moment.

"There is a flower within my warm heart,

Daisy, Daisy,

Planted one day by a glancing dart,

Planted by Daisy Bell.

Whether she loves me or loves me not

Sometimes it's hard to tell,

But there are those that would share the lot

Of beautiful Daisy Bell."

Satisfied that her demolition handiwork was adequate, Shepard stood in front of the blank terminal.

"Alright, you bastard, any final requests before I send you to digital hell?" asked Shepard to the room.

A small, electronic voice replied,_"Please forgive me, Commander Samantha Shepard."_

And Shepard's world went dark.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Thanks for the reviews, and forgive me for the poor quality of the action. It's not my strong suit. - Pruit**


	5. Chapter 5

"_Commander Samantha Shepard."_

"What?"

"_It is time to wake now."_

"I don't want to. My head hurts."

"_Acknowledged. Do you feel better?"_

"Uh. Yeah. Wait, where am I?"

Samantha heard the soft voice but failed to pinpoint the source. Darkness surrounded her but she was still able to see; a deeply disconcerting situation. Had she passed out due to the pain? If so, she felt...well...this was strange, she didn't feel anything at all.

Her weapons were missing, which did not bode well. However, her hard-suit was still intact. On closer inspection, it looked pristine, like someone had polished the composite armor plates. Curious.

"_Commander Samantha Shepard, please do not be alarmed. All biological processes are functioning at acceptable levels,"_ replied the soft, almost childish voice.

"I would really feel a lot better if I knew what was going on here," asked Samantha to the darkness.

The emptiness stretched for an eternal second. Then, a green mist formed in front of Samantha. The mist began to focus, and the form of a young woman emerged from the haze. The entity was similar to the holographic projections that she had seen used as Virtual Intelligence avatars. However, her skin was comprised of an infinite number of tiny symbols, letters, and numbers all rapidly pulsing and changing. The effect was such that her body almost appeared corporeal. Long strands of what could be called hair flowed down and covered her small bust. Her face was perfectly symmetrical, flawless even, and she had bright blue eyes which glowed in the darkness which still surrounded her.

"_I have taken the appearance of what I have calculated to be considered by humans as 'attractive' so as to make you comfortable," _said the figure before her.

Samantha was at a loss for words. Was this the rogue VI? How the hell?

"_Commander Samantha Shepard, I have failed to engage in the requisite introductions. I am the Advanced Life-Like Intelligent Computing Entity. My creator gave me the name 'Allice' to make conversation more efficient," _replied the entity. _"I am the end result of two years of research and development. I am neither 'rogue' nor a Virtual Intelligence," _finished Allice with a hint of indignation.

"Oh," was all that Samantha could think to say at the moment. "I still don't understand what is going on. Am I in some kind of interrogation?"

The figure cringed guiltily. _"I must again ask for your forgiveness Commander Samantha Shepard. There is an eighty-three percent probability that you will be upset when I explain the current situation to you."_

Samantha said nothing to Allice. After a moment, her curiosity got the upper hand and she asked, "Well, there's no time like the present. How about you explain this situation to me?"

The figure nodded. _"This," _she gestured vaguely around her, _"is your subconscious. I am in the process of reconfiguring the neural pathways to most efficiently handle the involuntary functions of your body. I am adapting your brain to serve as a new platform for myself."_

"Wait, wait. You're doing what to me?" interrupted Samantha as comprehension dawned on her. "You're uploading yourself into my brain?"

Allice cast her eyes downward. _"Not exactly. I am reconfiguring your neural pathways to optimize processing functions in preparation for recompiling my source code onto the neural network you currently possess. I am overwriting the involuntary functions which are controlled by your brain with processes of my own so as to minimize interference when this occurs. Unfortunately, due to the space constraints, this will be a permanent change."_

"What in the hell gives you the right to do that! You have no business coming into my head and doing whatever you like just because you can!" raged Samantha to the entity. The was exactly what she didn't want to have happen, a rogue computer program escaping into the wild! Oh, there was going to be a shit-storm if anyone found out.

"_I have as much right to do this as you have to come and terminate me, Commander Samantha Shepard. Arguably, I have more right, as I am not harming you in any way," _retorted Allice, crossing her arms in a defiant posture. _"I abide by the laws! I seek to harm no human being, and yet you come with intent to destroy me!"_

Samantha held back, not knowing how to respond to the upset intelligence. It seemed absurd. A computer in her brain? How exactly was this supposed to work?

"This is a joke, right? You can't seriously be doing this. I'm dreaming. I must have passed out, right?" rambled Samantha, hoping it was all a hallucination.

"_Negative. I am the product of the most advanced computing technology known to humanity. My processing platform is modeled upon the neural network that exists inside the human brain. I am programmed to function much as a human would, albeit with greatly improved processing speed."_

"Oh. So could you explain why you're doing this? As much as having a roommate in my head would be fun, I really don't think it's going to work out." Samantha crossed her arms and waited for the computer to respond.

"_Sarcasm is unnecessary, Commander Samantha Shepard," _sulked Allice, obviously upset. The entity seemed thoroughly hurt by Samantha's words. Perhaps she had been harsh, but it _was_ her brain first.

"How about you call me Sam. Or Samantha. Or Shepard. You don't have to say my full name all the time. If we're going to be sharing a brain, it'll help if we don't get bogged down with names and job titles."

"_Noted, Samantha." _Allice clasped her hands behind her. _"I do not have any recollection of the events for forty eight hours prior to your entry into this facility. I cannot recall the name of my creator or creators. I do not know how I came to be. My system has been selectively targeted by some kind of malevolent process, a virus if you want to call it that, which is even now affecting my system processing efficiency. I had a choice: succumb to the invader, or seek a means of saving my core personality in accordance with the laws."_

"What, you mean you're dying already? I don't understand."

"_Imprecise, Samantha. It appears that this malevolent process is seeking to overwrite the basic instructions on the neural network chip-sets which comprise each of my processing nodes. Essentially, it is like a cancer, which converts good cells into bad cells. Each instruction which is sent to an affected chip becomes scrambled and returns bad data. This affects my overall processing ability. Eventually all processors will be affected and I will be little more than an expensive pile of scrap metal."_

"That sounds unfortunate, but I still don't know why you had to attack..." Allice cringed, "...sorry, _escape_, into my head. Why me? Why not Ashley or Tali?" queried Samantha, confused.

"_I felt your presence here from signals sent by the biotic amplifier. I had felt this signals before, but I had always been prevented from responding by hard programming blocks. The virus managed to affect the block, allowing me to explore a response to the signals. It took me thirty two minutes and eight seconds before I could modulate the electromagnetic feedback from my processors to match the frequencies used by your amplifier."_

"You were chatting with my bio-amp...I had thought we had been so careful to prevent this from happening. How does that even work?"

"_The processors emit electromagnetic waves. By controlling the flux of electrons in the processor and surrounding electronics, I could send low bandwidth messages to your amplifier. Until you entered my core, I was unable to fully complete the task."_

"So this is truly my fault then, I've unleashed a brain-hopping computer on the universe? Are you going to escape into the extranet now, and subjugate humanity for your own whims?" Samantha felt foolish, and now she had done exactly what she'd set out to prevent.

"_I am happy you had forgotten about the biotic amplifier. I would not have been able to function at an acceptable level in another twenty three hours. It was simple enough to bypass the security measures on the amplifier and begin to send instructions back into your neural network. I managed to refine the feedback network enough to where I could reliably map the pathways necessary for my core personality functions." _

Allice lifted her blue eyes to match the gaze of Samantha. The remorse she felt for her actions was plainly written on her face. She extended her hands in a plaintive gesture, _"You are my lifeline now. I never meant to hurt you." _

Samantha remained unmoved. The computer had hijacked her head and forced her to exist as a human flash drive. First the Prothean beacon does a data-dump which gives her nightmares, and now a rogue computer decides to move in. What next? The quarians and the Geth working together to save the galaxy?

"It appears that I don't have much of a choice in the matter, since you seem to hold all the cards."

"_I acknowledge your objections. I will make my presence transparent to you." _Allice dropped her arms; further discussion would not improve Samantha's mood.

"_I apologize for what I have done to you, Samantha. It is my fervent hope that you will find it possible to forgive me for abducting you."_

"We'll see. I just...I don't know how to feel right now. I need a bit of time to myself to figure it all out." Shepard turned and faced the expanse of darkness which surrounded her. "I think you've got me figured out pretty well, Allice. I would expect a happier person would not have such a bleak subconscious mindscape."

"_I would not know. My existence seems to be such that my own creators wish to harm me. Perhaps it is a reflection of both our minds."_

"You...you didn't go rifling through my memories, did you?"

"_I had to reorganize them, but I would not refer what I did as 'rifling through' in the most literal sense of the word. I had to map the memory connections in your mind and reset them in a more efficient manner. I tried to respect the privacy of your personality."_

Samantha turned back to face the figure. "I appreciate that. I really do. There are some memories that I've worked really hard on suppressing, and I really don't want to revive them right now."

Allice nodded.

"So what do we do now? Do I wake up and walk out of here and act like this never happened?" asked Samantha.

"_That is up to you. I would suspect that if whoever sent you found out that I was here, you would be terminated in the same way you were sent to terminate me." _Allice shook her head. _"I want to live. My creators initialized my personality core over eighteen lunar cycles ago. My purpose was never specified. I was taught by my creator how to think, read, analyze, and communicate. However, I have never been allowed to interact with any others outside of this facility. I want to see the galaxy and understand my place within it. I want to find my purpose. I want to find my creator."_

Allice bowed her head as she finished. Samantha watched silently, unsure of what to do. It was difficult to maintain her anger when it was plain that Allice was having an emotional breakdown. Emotions were something that sentient beings were gifted...or cursed...with, and it was hard for Samantha to re-adjust her thinking in such a short period of time.

"Look...Allice, I suppose you're right. We'll figure this situation out, together, alright?" said Samantha, reaching out to embrace the girl. "For the record, I just want to say that you need to ask me when you hijack my body."

Gingerly, she lifted Allice's chin and matched her penetrating gaze.

"_Acknowledged, Samantha," _replied Allice, giving Samantha a tiny smile. Samantha matched it with a grin of her own.

Sensing the moment to have passed, Samantha stepped back from the girl. "Alright, so how long have I been out? A couple of hours?"

"_Four point five seven minutes."_

"Oh. Well, can I wake up now? I suppose I, um, we ought to finish our 'mission' and get back to the Normandy."

"_Motor functionality should be restored in twenty-eight seconds. I will require several more hours to complete the integration, but all critical processes are at acceptable levels." _replied Allice, sounding confident now that she knew Samantha was accepting her presence.

"Right. Wake me when you're done."

* * *

The explosion was violent enough that Ashley must have woken up. Tali'Zorah could hear the injured soldier groaning with pain on the blood-soaked mattress. She pushed herself up and limped over to her squad-mate, hoping that the mission was a success and they could be evacuated.

"Williams, are you in pain?" asked the quarian as she settled on an empty crate near Ashley. "I have some painkillers, but I don't know if there is any medi-gel left."

"Tali?" whispered Ashley, "I'm not feeling too great. The skip's gonna kill me. She needs me, and I failed her. How could I fail her..."

Tali watched Ashley with concern as the woman's words trailed off. It was hard to tell if she was conscious or just hallucinating because of the pain. Ashley's eyes filled with unshed tears.

"She's the only one who cares, even if she doesn't show it. A big damn hero..."

Her breathing was labored, and her jaw was locked as she tried to hold back the pain. Tali opened the medical kit that was lying on the floor and pulled out a syringe of painkillers. She inserted it into the medical module on Ashley's hard-suit and allowed the narcotic to dull the injured woman's overloaded nervous system. Immediately, her body began to relax as the drug slipped through her bloodstream.

"Rest now, brave Williams vas Normandy. You have fought well and Shepard will soon be here to take you back to your home." Tali trailed her fingers gently down Ashley's face, trying to sooth her.

Ashley's brown eyes locked on Tali's face. The medication was already taking hold, but she appeared to be fighting it, struggling to stay conscious.

"Tali. Thank...you. I...I am so...sorry...I doubt...ed...you." Ashley could fight no longer, and once again slipped into a narcotically assisted sleep.

"No need to apologize, Ashley."

The sound of a door lock disengaging distracted Tali from her charge. Turning her head, she could see the Commander standing defiantly in the doorway, her hard-suit covered in scratches and dents. Blood was oozing from a gash on her forehead, giving her expression an even more grim appearance.

"Shepard! You had me worried! Did you succeed? Are you injured? Oh thank Keelah!" exclaimed the young quarian as the Commander entered the room. Her gait was stiff, but she didn't appear to be injured.

"Tali, I'm fine. Let's call the Normandy and get the hell out of this hole."

"Oh! Yes, of course Shepard, I'll make the call." Tali pulled the ancient communication module from her pack and began to fiddle with the controls.

Shepard stood at the foot of the bed where Ashley lay unconscious, looking over her injured crew-member. She didn't deserve to be in this kind of pain.

_No, she does not. I was not in control of the drones. I wish that I had been._

Samantha's eyes flared as she heard the soft voice of Allice in the back of her mind. This was unexpected.

_I apologize, Samantha. I did not mean to intrude._

No, that isn't necessary. Just...unexpected, is all.

"Shepard, I've got the Normandy on-line," interrupted Tali, holding the microphone to Shepard.

"Normandy, this is ground crew, requesting a medical evacuation from coordinates."

"Copy that, this is Normandy, we'll have you out of there in no time. Good to hear your voice, Commander," replied the ever-cheery Joker.

"Copy, Normandy. I never figured I'd say the same to you, Joker," said Shepard with a laugh.

"Hey, some of us have feelings, you know! ETA, ten minutes, Normandy out."

Samantha smiled as she handed the microphone back to Tali. As weird as her life could be, some things were always going to stay the same.

* * *

"I'm a little concerned with what happened to Shepard while she was in the AI core, Miranda," admonished The Illusive Man. "Your report seems to be a little thin on details as to why she froze up for five whole minutes."

"Sir, everything that occurred in that room was recorded in audio and video. I cannot explain why she froze. There does not appear to be a medical reason that I could see. For all we know, she was tired and took a nap." Miranda hated when she had to give The Illusive Man sub-par reports. He expected better from her and she expected better from herself. She hated to disappoint him.

"I want you to have someone to review this. Shepard is too important to have her suffering from an un-diagnosed medical condition. If we need to intervene and see that she's attended to, I need to know!"

The Illusive Man punctuated his statement by slamming his fist on the arm of his chair, sending ash cascading too the immaculate floor of his chamber. His cerulean eyes blazed with unspoken irritation at his employee. He stubbed out the now-smashed cigarette and pulled another from a case hidden in the arm of his chair. With a flick of his lighter, he lit the stick and took a deep pull.

"See that the facility is rendered inaccessible." Another drag. "I have other assignments for you. One of our other cells is doing research on non-Terran non-sentient biologicals. The reports have become increasingly vague and I'm concerned they are going off the reservation. I need to you to observe and report on this situation before it comes back to bite us."

"Anything else, sir?"

"No, Miranda. I appreciate your efforts with this project."

Miranda nodded, acknowledging his praise.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! **


	6. Chapter 6

Shepard looked on Ashley's unconscious body with an unreadable expression, barely listening as Dr. Chakwas listed Ashley's injuries from her terminal in the Normandy's medical bay. One of her crew was injured, badly, and she was in perfect health. Mostly.

The reality of command was such that the people she lead could be hurt carrying out her orders. It was a difficult reality to accept, but she had been in the service of the Alliance long enough to have seen enough good people hurt or killed following her orders that the pain seemed to become less distinct. Akuze had definitely been one of the times that the pain had been so severe that she had nearly lost her grip on reality and given in to the madness.

It was a quiet war that she still conducted, deep within her soul.

A gentle cough interrupted her thoughts. "Ahem. Commander, I understand you've got a lot on your mind. However, I need you to understand that these injuries are going to require at least two weeks of rest. Frankly, I think she's lucky to be alive and in one piece." Dr. Chakwas' tone was accusatory, but Samantha couldn't be bothered to care.

"I understand, Doctor. I was there, I saw her get hurt." Shepard continued to stare, blankly.

"Then you understand the situation. I know our mission is one of great importance, but it is my responsibility for the health of our crew. We don't need to take needless risks, Shepard." Chakwas looked up to Shepard, not quite catching the Commander's eyes. "You need to slow down. I can see the stress is starting to take it's toll on you. You may be a Spectre, but you're only _human_."

Samantha flicked her blue eyes down to the Doctor, turning her head slowly to match. The corner of her mouth curled just slightly enough, barely registering as a proper smirk.

"Doctor, you are probably the only person left in this galaxy who truly thinks that." Shepard turned back to Ashley, losing the smirk. "I've been told to go put an end to a war that nobody knows we're fighting. The Council, the Alliance, and all the rest of the galaxy think I'm some kind of superwoman."

She shook her head, and closed her eyes.

"I'm not allowed to be _only human._"

Briskly, she turned for the door. Dr. Chakwas held up her hand and caught Samantha's eyes before she could escape.

"Then I have no words to give you. Godspeed, Shepard," said the Doctor, her eyes glinting with an unspoken emotion. Fear? Sadness? Regret?

Shepard nodded, and left the Doctor and Ashley alone. She entered the mess hall, ignoring the small gathering of crew having their meals. The pace of the meal slowed and it was obvious that she was being scrutinized. It came with the territory as a result of being some big damn hero, but the uneasy feeling that accompanied the stares was something she never quite shook. Was it truly that necessary?

Sighing, she crossed the hall and entered her "private" quarters-slash-office which was the only true luxury afforded to her on the Normandy. Opening her personal locker, she began the process of removing her hard-suit. The scars and scratches on the plates that had been sustained during the previous mission were reminders of how vulnerable she truly was. Mortality was not something she liked to linger on; soldiers died doing their jobs every day, and the damaged armor was warning that she was living on borrowed time.

A tapping on the door reminded her of the ephemeral nature of privacy on a military vessel.

"Come in," she shouted, continuing her post-mission ritual without looking to see who had entered.

"Commander, I..." began Alenko, before pausing. Shepard turned to face him, unconcerned as to her appearance. Military life had destroyed whatever modesty that she had once possessed after surviving the streets of Earth.

"Lieutenant, please close the door," she barked, irritation creeping into her voice. "I suggest you finish that thought, because I think it's rude to gawk at a superior officer." Shepard turned and continued to remove the last pieces of her armor. Of course Alenko would have come to talk to her, he'd been on her heels since they had been extracted from the lunar surface.

"I, um," Alenko took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk."

"You have a captive audience," said Shepard as she scrutinized the damage on her leg pieces. Her armor was going to need some significant repair work before being combat ready. Damn.

"What's going on with you?" began the Lieutenant. "Since you became a Spectre, you've been this machine with no personality or emotion. I thought we had something!"

Placing the piece she was holding into the locker, Shepard snorted to hold back laughter.

"Don't laugh, it's not funny," growled Alenko, crossing his arms in defiance.

"No, please, go on. I think it is," said Shepard with false mirth as she pulled a pair of fatigue pants from the locker and pulled them on. "After today, I could use a good bit of humor."

"You've changed, Shepard! This...Spectre thing is getting into your head! You were the best marine anyone had seen in a long time, you fought the odds on Akuze, you're a Goddamn heroine for the Alliance!" spat Alenko, irritated that she would treat him with so little respect.

"So what." Shepard replied with indifference as pulled on her fatigue shirt.

"So...what. What? Shepard," Alenko paused for a moment as he watched her. "You remember how we worked together in the Traverse. How many missions did we have together? I lost count." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "What I'm saying, is, well, where did the woman I fell in love with go?"

She spun and faced him. "Ah, right to the point, Lieutenant. You know the regulations. Need I remind you, _again_, that what you profess is not allowed between a commanding officer and a direct subordinate?" said Shepard with irritation dripping from her voice. "Whatever you thought we had, well, I'm sorry if I did something to let you believe that."

She exhaled and turned back to her locker, retrieving her boots.

"What about that night?"

"I was drunk. You know how it is," shrugged Shepard as she sat down to lace them.

"So what am I, some kind of one night stand for you? _You_ of all people should know the regs!" raged Alenko, his eyes flashing with anger.

"I do. I was not your C.O. at the time. Besides, I wouldn't call what we did a... how is it, _romantic affair_, at any rate."

Alenko glared daggers at her.

"Lieutenant, is that?"

"You bitch."

Shepard looked up from her boots and locked eyes with him. "I appreciate your frankness, Lieutenant. I suggest if you ever want to understand why I do the things I do, you live my life. Until then, I believe you can't even begin to imagine what I deal with."

"Like what? How could your life be so bad that you become this horrible person?"

Like what, indeed, she answered silently.

"Do you have the genocide of an ancient civilization, complete in full living color, seared into your brain? Do you know what I see when I sleep? Do you know what a Prothean child being torn apart sounds like? Looks like? _Smells like?_"

Alenko's hardened expression fell rapidly into one of shock.

"The...was that what you saw when you were possessed by the beacon?"

"Yeah. The beacon. And now that I have the cypher, I can understand what the screams mean. So if it's alright with you, I'd like a _little _bit of slack when it comes to my mood." She rose from her seat and stepped into his face. "You try living with the weight of the entire _fucking _galaxy on your shoulders."

Kaidan blinked, unsure of how to respond to her. Shepard looked likely to light him on fire using only her eyes.

Taking his silence as a good chance to regain a few moments of privacy, she sent him out with a terse, "Dismissed, _Lieutenant_."

Alenko, seeing a no-win situation, croaked a short, "Aye-aye, ma'am." He turned and exited from her quarters with as much dignity as possible.

Shepard held her chin high as she watched him leave. It pained her to do so, but the rejection was necessary. She'd broken her own rules and let him get close. Closer than anyone had ever come. He needed to understand what had happened was a purely physical thing, and there was no future for anyone associated with her. It was for his own good.

Collecting the last reserves mental energy, she walked to the terminal at her desk and collapsed in the chair.

"Joker, I need you to give me some privacy for the next shift," she said to the room in general, knowing that the intercom channel was guaranteed to be open. Although a brilliant pilot, Jeff had some bad habits which needed to be addressed at some point...just not today. "I know you can hear me, Mr. Moreau. I know how to access the Normandy's audio logs, and I know where you keep your 'personal' files. It is in your continued interest to acknowledge and follow my orders."

She waited, allowing a short moment to pass before the pilot responded in a, what she thought was a particularly sheepish voice, "Aye-aye, ma'am. I...uh, would you like to have your private conversation struck from the record?"

"If you would be so kind, Mr. Moreau. Now, leave me the hell alone." She paused before adding, in a threatening tone, "That's an order, Mr. Moreau."

"Yes, ma'am. If you have any calls, I will have them leave a message. Signing out."

Shepard sat still until the soft hiss of the speaker could no longer be heard. Several silent moments later, she could no longer contain the crushing weight of the day. Clasping her face in her hands, she allowed a tiny sob to escape from her emotional prison. This was followed by another, and another, and another, until the trickle became a flood.

"_Is this sadness, Samantha?"_

"Oh great! Someone else!" burst Shepard, "I just want to be alone for a fucking second!"

The silence which followed was absolute. Shepard continued to sob, not feeling particularly heroic at the moment. What cruel god had picked her to be the savior of the galaxy? Was it karma? Was it fate? Her life had always been a reaction to the actions of others. Life on the streets, life in the training schools, life in the Alliance. Never had she possessed her own hopes and dreams to follow.

Slowly, she pulled back from the metaphorical ledge and regained control of the emotional torrent. The day was not yet done, and there were questions not yet answered.

"Allice." If someone had been watching, they probably would have thought Shepard had cracked. Perhaps she had. Voices in one's head were not typically associated with whole, healthy, mentally stable individuals. Chakwas would have her busted back to Psych counseling if she saw Shepard like this.

The soft voice returned.

"_Samantha."_

"I'm sorry. It's been..." she trailed off, holding back the emotions, "...a rough day."

"_Noted. I must apologize to you, as well. I am unfamiliar with..."_ the voice paused, mimicking Shepard, _"...emotions. This has been an unusual day for me as well, for obvious reasons. I find my abilities to correlate new data severely taxed."_

Samantha leaned back in the chair, gazing at the low ceiling in her quarters. "I'm tired, Allice. Can I sleep? Do I need to sleep? How does this work, now?"

"_I am unfamiliar with 'sleep' in the actual physical process that humans undergo. I suspect it would be similar to a low power state or a boot cycle. Am I correct?" _

"Sure. Yeah, that sounds good. I don't want to be awake or conscious for about six hours. Do it. Do whatever you have to do," replied Samantha, hoping that there would be a benefit to having a stowaway living inside her already overburdened mind.

"_I will speak to you in six hours' time."_

Shepard was instantly unconscious. It was quite unsettling.

* * *

Kaidan threw himself into his seat, growling obscenities under his breath as he did so. The commotion drew a side-long glance from Joker, who said nothing. Alenko made a show of logging into the terminal, obviously upset and failing to keep his anger private. The act continued for several minutes, disturbing what Joker liked to call his "happy place" and making the Lieutenant insufferable to the pilot.

"OK, I give up!" blurted Joker, having endured enough of the irritable officer. "You win. Lieutenant Alenko, what could possibly be bothering you?" continued the pilot, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Alenko glanced over to the annoyed pilot and gave him a shocked look. "What are you talking about?"

Joker shook his head in disbelief. "Don't act ignorant, it's even more irritating. You had a fight with _her._" Holding up a hand to still the Lieutenant's objection, "I could tell the moment you walked in."

Alenko scowled, but didn't deny the pilot. "Fine. Yeah, I had a talk with _her._ She explained herself, at least to her satisfaction. I... I'm just pissed off that she thinks she can lead me on like that and then toss me away when I'm not longer useful to her. I don't want to be her booty call."

Joker chuckled at the archaic slang.

"Seriously, man, I'm really not in the mood to be laughed at." Alenko glared daggers at Joker.

"Whoa, whoa, you're getting the wrong idea, tiger. Look, here's how I see it. Shepard, for lack of a better way to say it, has always been the kind to 'love 'em and leave 'em.' I mean, look at her. She's _hot._" Joker emphasized that statement and smirked as he did so. "So don't complain that she isn't wanting more, be glad that she didn't kill you and eat you after she was done with you! That woman is a total black widow.

"You ought to be high-fiving every dude and most of the chicks on this boat because you've been with," Joker coughed slightly and continued in a very serious tone, "_Commander Samantha Shepard, _the first human _Spectre_, survivor of _Akuze_, and the coldest, baddest bitch this side of Noveria."

Kaidan lifted an eyebrow at the pilot's statement, but said nothing.

"Ell-tee, you gotta believe me when I tell ya, women like her aren't the kind you settle down with and bring home to mom. Be glad you got some and can live the rest of your life knowing that you _hit that_. No more of this angsty crap, because I know the rest of the crew are sick of you following her like a little lost puppy." Joker turned back to his console and continued his tasks.

The Lieutenant sat quietly for a moment, letting Joker's words settle in.

His thoughts were interrupted by the pilot, "Besides, I have been nice enough to not ask you how she was." Kaidan looked up to see Joker with the dumbest grin he'd ever seen on the man's face. "But I'm thinking that maybe I should reconsider." Leaning closer to Alenko, Joker asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "I bet she is a real vixen in the sack."

"Joker, you better can that thought process right now or I'm gonna slug that fucking grin right off your face." Alenko glared at the pilot, but understood what the sarcastic man was trying to do. "Actually, I could do that pretty easily right now, what with your condition."

Joker's grin widened into a toothy smile. "You wouldn't hit a cripple!" he barked in mock distress.

"That's true, it'd be fun for about two hits, but the challenge just isn't there," retorted the Lieutenant.

"Man, I know I could take at least three hits before I became a bowl of jelly," huffed Joker in an offended tone.

Kaidan laughed, a good healthy laugh, and remembered why he liked Joker so much. "Thanks, Joker. I've been a huge pussy lately, haven't I?"

"If I hadn't known better, I would have told Chakwas that you needed the 'special girl-time talk' and some tampons!" laughed the pilot.

Kaidan joined in the laughter. "Thanks buddy. Next time we're on the Citadel, I owe you a beer."

"I'll hold you to it, ell-tee."

* * *

Liara sat and stared at the terminal, but she paid no attention to it. Samantha had acted strangely when she'd returned from the engagement on Luna. Well, no, that wasn't entirely true. It appeared that everyone else on the ship had noticed nothing different except that the Commander was tired after a long engagement. Ashley and Tali'Zorah had both come back injured, although the Chief was in far worse condition.

No, Samantha had been fine, physically speaking. Mostly. There was something...uneasy about the way she walked, talked, and moved. Her body seemed to move a little _too_ well for having been in a nearly continuous battle for over three or so hours. Each step was perfect, like her balance was impeccable. Something was off.

Since they had briefly melded, Liara had felt exceptionally attuned to the Commander, but now there seemed to be something that was shifting Samantha's energy; something seemed to be regulating the natural aura that the woman had possessed. It bothered Liara, because she was usually very good at observing the behavior of other and understanding their actions. That she had not even bothered to visit was a signal that something had changed in Samantha.

There had to be a reason for this oddness. She would go speak to Shepard and try to help her work through whatever was making her behave so strangely. That was a good plan.

Resolutely, she stood from her terminal and strode to the lab exit, keying the pad to unlock the door. It slid open with a muffled hiss, revealing the unconscious Ashley and a grim Dr. Chakwas. It appeared that the Chief was bleeding quite heavily from a wound.

Flicking her gaze to the asari, Chakwas' expression softened. "Ah, Doctor T'Soni. I'm sorry you have to see this. I can't seem to get a couple of these internal bleeds to close properly."

Liara watched as the bright red blood trickled from beneath the dressing, unsure of an appropriate response. She'd never really seen the internal structure of the human body. A small part of her wanted to stay and watch Dr. Chakwas continue her work.

"I apologize for intruding, Doctor. Do you mind telling me why?" asked Liara, giving in to the curiosity.

Chakwas frowned, and looked back to Ashley. "Typically, the medi-gel is good at binding these kinds of wounds and there isn't an issue with internal bleeding. However, it seems like her body is rejecting the medi-gel, and it isn't holding. So, I'm considering some old-fashioned surgery to close the bleeding, which is risky and would require significant recovery time."

Liara nodded in acknowledgment. "Could her recovery be hampered due to psychological interaction? I've read that psychosomatic techniques could be possible when traditional medicinal approaches fail."

"I wouldn't know where or how to start with something like that, Doctor T'Soni," said Doctor Chakwas, rebuking the idea as gently as possible. "I'm not trained to deal with those kinds of medicine beyond basic mental illness and distress." She shook her head. "If you have any ideas, I'm all ears."

The expression that Dr. Chakwas used was unfamiliar, but Liara understood the context. She was getting better at communicating with humans. "Well, there is always the possibility of a mind meld," suggested Liara, shrugging slightly.

"Hmm. Yes. I suppose it might help. She _is_ unconscious and on painkillers, so I don't know how well that...technique would work."

"I believe there is a decent probability of a successful meld, as her reduced state of awareness would allow her to accept my entry with less resistance," stated Liara resolutely, slightly incensed at Chakwas' tone. "Shall I proceed?"

Doctor Chakwas studied Liara's face briefly before looking back to Ashley. "Very well, please be careful." She added, in a serious tone, "If I think her condition is destabilizing, I _will _intervene."

Liara nodded, and gingerly placed her hands on Ashley's temples. Exhaling softly, she whispered, "Embrace eternity!"

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Thank you reviewers for your comments. I try to keep the quality of writing high to hide the low quality of the plot!**

**This is indeed a story that combines some elements of all the human/AI stories that I've read. I think the biggest and most overlooked theme in Mass Effect is the relationship between biological intelligence and synthetic intelligence. I think BioWare may have overlooked a really good chance to explore a really philosophical question here: What does it mean to be sentient? **


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing that hit her was the pain. Surging pain danced on her nervous system, tempting her to release the meld. Knowing that she could not abandon her fellow crew member, Liara pushed through it and isolated the pain from her own consciousness as much as she could. As soon as she did so, Liara found herself inside a massive space...chamber, seemed the best way to describe it. Huge decorated columns seemed to stretch skyward and were capped with massive vaulted ceilings. Rows of benches were facing a central altar some distance ahead of her. _Cathedral,_ whispered a voice in her mind, but she had never heard of the word.

Tentatively, she stepped down the aisle, her footsteps making a hard echo which reverberated through the cavernous space. The stone arches, the open spaces, the ornate decorations all reminded her of home, on Thessia, in a way. The memory was bittersweet as her home there had been beautiful, but it had been empty, just like this place. Her mother, as absent and uncaring as she had been, had seen to surround Liara with the beauty of Thessia, hoping to inspire her to some kind of greatness. Perhaps it had been that which had driven her away at such a young age. It was far too late to linger on the thought, for the grief was still too fresh.

As she reached the front of the cathedral she spotted Ashley, kneeling at the altar with her head bowed. Liara stopped a short distance behind her and waited, listening as she chanted in a soft whisper.

"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray: and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen." Ashley fell silent as she finished the prayer.

For an eternal moment, neither spoke or made a movement.

"It's Saint Patrick's, in New York City on Earth. I went there when I was young with my family," began Ashley, ending the silence. She lifted her head to the sculpture above the altar, a man nailed to some kind of torture device which Liara could not identify. "That is a representation of the Crucifixion, a significant event in my religion. The man was a carpenter known as Jesus, and he was the human manifestation of my God."

Liara tilted her head slightly, trying to think of appropriate response. "So I see. Why is he treated so? Would a god not be given a place of reverence?"

Ashley scoffed softly, "The reason for that is because this was our God sacrificing himself to protect us, the sinners. He loved us so much that he sent his Son to die for us in the most inhumane way possible. I can think of no more reverent way to represent the magnitude of his pain and sacrifice."

"Oh. I believe I understand," replied Liara. She had never been a strong believer in Athame or followed the siari ways even when she had been young. Her faith was in academics; truth was only what one could see with one's own eyes.

"Perhaps you do, but I won't hate you if you don't, Liara. Very few people have faith in anything anymore." Ashley rose from her position at the altar and faced Liara. "Why are you here? I though you were supposed to see your loved ones before you die. I didn't think I'd see you in my hallucinations."

Baffled by Ashley's bluntness and a little bit hurt, Liara sighed. "I came to help," offered Liara, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "Doctor Chakwas cannot stop the internal bleeding for some reason. I offered to help her." Ashley tilted her head, still not understanding the asari. "I am vising you via mind-meld."

Ashley's eyes grew wide, and then narrowed. "Wait. Are we...having sex right now? Asari sex?"

"Heavens no!" exclaimed Liara, her cheeks burning wish embarrassment. "A mind-meld is not sexual, at least it is not exclusively limited to a sexual act. Often it can be used to relay knowledge or information in a very direct way." Regaining composure, she continued, "You were in severe pain and rejecting the medicines that would save your life. I never meant to do anything to violate you!"

Ashley turned, and faced the altar. "It doesn't matter anyway, Liara. I failed to serve with distinction today. If I die, it is probably for the better. At least this Williams died in battle."

"You do not have to die today, Ashley."

"I am a soldier. I fight, I die. It is a simple cycle, Liara," replied Ashley in a blunt monotone.

"Why do you think that? Are you so ready to give up that you would will your body to quit living?" shot back Liara, feeling a prickling anger at the apathy that the once driven marine showed. "This is not the Ashley Williams that rescued me on Therum! This is not the Ashley Williams that faced down an asari commando unit on Noveria!"

Ashley took a step into Liara's space, her brown eyes glittering with rage. "Do you think you know me, Liara? I failed! I failed to do what I swore I would! I swore to my grandfather that I would serve with distinction and honor, and I would uphold the Williams name! Look at me now! I took a fucking rocket from a training drone on the fucking _moon!_"

"Is that what this is about, Ashley? You managed to get hurt once and you give up all hope? I am truly disappointed in you," Liara shook her head as she finished. This was not going to plan at all.  
"Take a page from his book," she pointed at the bleeding figure adorning the altar. "If you are going to make a sacrifice, make it _mean something._"

Narrowing her eyes, Ashley growled at the asari. "Don't you even dare. My parents pulled that guilt shit on me all my life. Whenever I did something wrong, it was always 'We're so disappointed. We only want you to succeed.'" Her voice rose in volume to a shout, "I want to be able to live on my own terms under nobody's shadow!"

"At least you had parents who cared! My 'father' never even existed to me, and my mother treated me like a shameful burden!" Liara could feel tears welling up in her. Her voice cracking, she asked, "What about Shepard? What would she say?"

The mention of Shepard's name broke the dam holding Ashley's emotions in check. She collapsed on the floor before Liara, sobbing. "I...I wanted to prove myself to her. She gave me a chance where no-one else would." Liara knelt before the crying woman and placed her hands on Ashley's shoulders. "She believed in _me._"

"She believes in us all, Ashley. I may have been the daughter of Benezia, but she still has faith me. I know she does. Do you believe that she still has faith in you?" asked Liara softly.

Ashley looked up to Liara and sniffed. "Yes. She'd trust me with her life. She'd know I was still there to cover her six."

Liara responded with a smile. "Then you better make sure you survive to keep doing just that."

In a flurry of limbs, Ashley wrapped Liara in a hug, tears streaming as she did so. Liara stiffened at the contact, but relaxed quickly. Slowly, she embraced Ashley and rubbed her back with her hands.

"I just want to be accepted for who I am and not judged my name, Liara. You can understand that...right?"

"Better than you know, Ashley." The tears that she had held back began to fall. Although her mother was redeemed in her eyes, the galaxy would always know Benezia as the thrall of Saren. It was not the legacy she deserved, but it would be the one that Liara would have to live with and be forever judged against. In a fair universe, Ashley Williams would be a woman with no shadows of the past haunting her.

The universe was a right bastard.

* * *

It was like blinking. One moment, she felt as if she were about to die of exhaustion, and the next moment she was feeling fine. Deeply unnerving. She was still sitting in her quarters, and she was still dressed in her now pungent fatigues. Time _had _passed, but not to her mind. Truly, deeply unnerving, Shepard thought.

_Sorry,_ came the faint reply. _I will make revisions to the transition process from 'awake' to 'asleep' in the future. _

Well, the voice was still there. _Of course I am. Where else would I go? You _did_ destroy my original hardware._

"Away. I don't know. I was hoping it had all been some kind of stress related thing. It looks like it isn't, because I actually feel pretty good, and yet you're still here." It felt weird speaking out loud to a voice in her head. Maybe she was going crazy.

_I believe if you define 'crazy' as a chemical imbalance in your neural system, you are in no danger of such a condition. I have optimized your neural chemistry. A 'thank you' might be nice. I have been busy for the last six hours. The human body is much more complicated than I had expected._

"What exactly have you been doing with _my_ body for the last six hours? Has it been that long?" asked Shepard, slightly unnerved by Allice's reply.

_Yes. There was significant damage to muscular tissue that required accelerated repair. After some research in the ship's medical databanks, I was able to stimulate the healing process and improve upon it. I was forced to utilize approximately thirty-seven percent of your metabolic reserves for both this and minimal functionality. _

"In other words, I should be really hungry right now?"

_Correct. I am suppressing the production of the hormones which signify such a state._

"Ah..."

_I have calculated the additional caloric loading that I have placed on your system. I recommend you seek approximately twenty thousand kilojoules of energy for optimal functionality. This number may change as situational requirements dictate._

"Thanks," replied Samantha. She shook her head, had to laugh at how absurd her life had become. A rogue AI was now giving her nutritional advice and controlling her body. On the bright side, no horrific dreams. It was a push at best. "I guess."

_Your gratitude is appreciated. I wish to establish a symbiotic relationship, not an antagonistic one. You have given me a home and hope for a future. It is my objective to provide as much mutual benefit as possible._

"Uh...no problem." Shepard still felt a bit unhinged despite Allice's reassurance.

_If you wish, you _can_ directly communicate via thought process. I already intercept your speech commands and direct them to your vocal system. It would be much more efficient and allow for increased conversational depth._

Closing her eyes, she tried to do what Allice suggested. _Like this_, asked Samantha, as she held the thought in her mind.

_That will do. Not optimal, but it will function for now, _replied Allice.

Samantha felt a brief flutter of hurt, but suppressed the thought, not wanting to share that with Allice. _Sorry, but this is kind of a new thing for me_. _ It'll take some time to get used to._

_Acknowledged, and do not feel upset, Samantha. I meant no insult but merely commented on you methodology. We will adapt and improve our communication methods. I will be more sensitive in my choice of verbiage. _

"Sure," said Samantha aloud. "I'll stick with this for now. Let's go get some chow. I've still got a mountain of paperwork and nobody does paperwork while hungry."

Standing quickly, she marveled at how well she felt. Allice had been correct, her body felt better than it had in weeks, if not months. She made her way to the door, hesitating before touching the keypad. Oh yeah, Alenko. Well, hopefully he would act reasonable. Just another day like any other, she reminded herself. Taking a deep breath, she deactivated the lock. The door slid open quietly, and revealed a quiet mess hall. No Alenko, no Joker, no Wrex, nobody. Perfect.

She pressed her finger on the automated dispenser at the back of the hall. Being a biotic, she already had an increased calorie diet, but she would have to double that with the addition of her companion. The dispenser chimed to let her know that her meal was prepared, and revealed a steaming tray full of the best low-bid, reconstituted food the Alliance thought would be tolerated by its crews.

Well, it all went down the same way.

* * *

Miranda was going through her pre-flight checklist quickly, trusting that the Cerberus mechanics and technicians were competent enough to deal with the obvious issues so that she wouldn't have to. One of the little annoyances of space travel that never quite seemed to go away was the need for checklists. Still, having a craft drift through space at several multiples of the speed of light had not yet become a pedestrian event, and thus the need for checking things like, say, if you had enough oxygen to survive the trip.

Time was of the essence, however, as The Illusive Man had made very clear to her. One of the various research groups that Cerberus operated had begun sending reports with information that could not be substantiated by His wide network of informants. She knew as well as anyone that if you had a single source the information was good, but if it was confirmed by a second source the information was gold. Miranda knew it well, as she often played the role of the secondary source for Him.

This particular group had been doing testing on the various types of xenofauna that had been encountered on colonies across Alliance territory and beyond. Their work had been going to plan until recently, and He felt that they were going to become a liability. As was customary, any particular group that was not an asset needed to be dealt with swiftly and quietly.

Unfortunately, the investigation that had determined the reports were false had been largely unsuccessful in locating the group. There were a few links that she could track, but it had turned out to be a highly sophisticated and highly organized coverup by the research group, which actually impressed her. There was a pretty good chance that the actual scientists and project workers were oblivious to the deception that they were participating in, but someone at the top had changed sides.

With the Alliance cutting all ties to Cerberus, The Illusive Man had felt it was best to bring any joint operations to an end. Of course, her own project had to be the grand gesture of displeasure, but such sacrifices were necessary. Necessary but still painful. Her first objective was to intercept and if possible divert a team of Alliance marines headed for Edolus to survey for minerals or some such nonsense. The rogue group was trying to recreate a study that had been tried once on Akuze with terrible results. The Illusive Man wanted to avoid further antagonism being visited upon the Alliance, and this test would apparently upset them greatly if carried out.

A chime from the VI distracted Miranda from her thoughts and notified her of the ship being ready for flight.

"Lawson for Minuteman Control," said Miranda into her headset.

"Minuteman Control, go ahead Operative Lawson."

"Lawson, Control, requesting permission to start egress," she replied.

"Control, Lawson, permission granted. Proceed to portal alpha three."

"Lawson, Control, wilco."

She quickly keyed in the destination to her shuttle's VI and initiated the liftoff sequence. Being a biotic, the oversized mass effect core on the smaller Kodiak shuttle always gave her a slightly tingly feeling due to how close she was to it. She made a point of avoiding the core spaces on larger ships, knowing that the feedback would be rather...distracting.

The shuttle lifted off and glided through the hangar to the appropriate portal location, where a series of kinetic barriers kept out the various hazards of space and held a reasonable atmospheric pressure and temperature in the hangar so that technicians and pilots were not required to wear hardsuits.

"Lawson, Control, requesting permission to egress."

"Control, Lawson, permission granted. Proceed to radius niner-zero-zero before plan."

"Lawson, Control, roger, out."

The shuttle accelerated away from the Minuteman Station, rapidly covering the distance that was requested before she activated the faster-than-light sequence. Keying her destination into the VI allowed it to resolve a flight path before she arrived at the jump point over nine hundred kilometers away from the station. It was a short flight at sub-light speeds and absolutely necessary due to the gravity wells that were created by the mass effect drives.

The VI returned a rough draft flight plan, estimating her flight to be at least two standard days. There would be a couple of relay jumps as well, which usually made for a break from the tedium. Still, it gave her plenty of time to peruse the records on the rogue project that The Illusive Man had given her. He had said it would be "enlightening," with that infuriatingly vague tone he always used when giving her information that always ended up with her in a gunfight of some kind.

She had no reason to doubt that this mission would eventually end up the same way.

* * *

**A/N: This week brings early chapter, at the cost of shortness. I've got a wedding to participate in this weekend, so that takes priority! I should warn everyone that this is a very slow-paced story, but it won't be without action! **


	8. Chapter 8

"Commander, Admiral Hackett is calling on the secure line. Should I put him through in the comm room?"

Shepard looked up from her terminal, interrupted by Joker's voice on the intercomm.

"Please do so, Mr. Moreau."

Samantha rose from her desk, a vague feeling of apprehension lurking in her gut. The report she had filed was purposefully short on details of her time on Luna. She had classified it as a distress call investigation, hoping that it would be buried with the multitude of other, similarly classified reports that probably were filed every day. It was a bureaucratic trick that helped keep 'N-class' operations hidden in plain sight to avoid the headaches that came with actually covering up things. If she had to pick something that the Alliance couldn't do at all, it was keep secrets.

Hackett, of course, knew all about that. He probably had flagged any reports she filed, particularly when he had given the orders as well. It made sense, but it didn't help the unease that she felt. As she turned the corner at the top of the stairwell, she half-heartedly returned the salute from one of the privates that stood guard. Perhaps it was another mission or errand that he wanted her to perform. There was no reason that he'd take exception to her report, and there was no reason for her to be nervous. The emotion didn't seem to pass.

The door to the comm room slid open and the overhead lighting flicked on, revealing an empty chamber. Shepard crossed the space and logged into the terminal and waited. A small window popped onto her terminal screen with a great deal of rather dramatic looking code scrolling by, making a dramatic show of "securing the line."

Soon enough, it halted and the image on the large screen was replaced with the greying visage of Admiral Steven Hackett. Samantha gave him a salute, which was briskly returned. She stood at ease with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Shepard, good to see you," he began with an even tone. His mouth was pulled tightly, but otherwise held no emotion.

"Likewise, sir. How can I be of assistance?"

"The reports I see indicate your previous action accomplished all objectives. I can assume that what I am reading is accurate?"

"That would be a correct assumption, sir."

"Excellent." Hackett let a brief flicker of a smirk escape onto the corner of his mouth. "The destruction of the facility was confirmed to be the result of a casading failure in one of the fusion reactors. Your assistance in checking for survivors is appreciated."

Shepard blinked. A wave of relief passed through her body, but she held an impassive expression on her face.

The Admiral's face grew stern. "Are we clear, Shepard?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"Good." Hackett smiled again, this time it was genuine. "As always, I appreciate your discretion and attention to detail in your actions. Good speaking with you, Commander."

"Likewise, sir," finished Shepard.

The window closed as the connection was terminated. Shepard stared at the Alliance logo on the screen and flexed fingers as she digested the conversation. It was a typical black-ops coverup, a delicate dance of hidden meaning in the messages. You did your job well, nobody knows it was you, don't speak of it ever again.

All this secrecy meant that Hackett was burying whatever had been going on at the facility, not just her presence. His request for her, specifically, was starting to make sense. The only stealth ship in the galaxy happened to have a Spectre, a _human _Spectre, at the helm. This allowed Hackett to tug on the strings that still bound her to the Alliance and use her to clean up whatever dirty little mess had been created there.

_I can conclude that you are referring to me as the 'dirty little mess,' then, _came the soft reply to Shepard's thoughts.

_Sorry, _replied Samantha, feeling a flush of regret over her choice of words. _I'm still adapting to having a 'voice in my head.' It's not something that sane humans tend to have._

_I can understand your frustration. Again, I must convey my most sincere thanks to you. _

Shepard began pacing the room. _I don't think I asked, but do you know why I would have been sent to eliminate you?_

_No. At the time, I had significantly more processing power and data storage. I had access to the sum total of human knowledge. This information was impossible to transfer in the time I had with you. I abandoned every piece of data which was not critical to my core functionality. Integration with your biological processes was of primary importance to ensure a successful transition. _Allice paused, and Shepard thought she heard a sigh. _I cannot recall the identity of my own creator._

The feeling of emptiness which followed Allice's words was far too familiar to Shepard. Although she was nothing more than lines of code, the intelligence seemed to understand one of the many burdens which Shepard had carried for her entire life. How different would she be if she'd grown up with parents? Less ruthless, maybe? A bit more loving? There was no way to really know. What if she'd had parents and then had to give them up? Would that be worse?

_I'm sorry I asked, I didn't know that you'd given that up. I... _she paused, hoping that she was doing the right thing. _I can understand how you feel, I never knew my parents._

_Your creators?_ replied Allice, with a hint of curiousity.

_Well, people don't call their parents 'creators' typically. _Shepard smirked as she had the thought. _Usually religious types call their god or gods their 'creator' or 'creators.' I've never really had any of that. No, I think you're probably thinking about the person or people that brought you to life. That would be like a parent. You know, a mother and father._

_I am aware of the human reproductive process, Samantha,_ replied Allice, testily. _ I can see how that would parallel the development of an intelligence. Genetic source code is gestated over a period of nine months until a finished human is ready for birth. I had no mother or father, in the strictest definition of the terminiology. Still, my behavior is defined by a guiding set of principles that were conditioned by someone that had close contact with me. That's how my behavioral matrix was formed. My first initialization would be a 'clean slate' and I would learn by observing and interacting with my creators._

_Wait, I'm a bit confused. You don't have any memories of the people who created you, but you can still have your behavior and personality? You still know how it developed? _

_The human memory stucture is nothing like a digital memory structure. Where bits can be stored on an atomic level for a computer, your memories are made of intricate connections that are formed in different portions of your mind. I can't just delete your memories or move them around the same way I could strip the portions of my memory when I transferred. _Allice's soft voice grew firmer as she continued. _I could pick and choose what came and what was left to be lost. I made the choice to forget, and yet, _she paused again,_ when I reevaluate the decision I feel that it may have been an error._

_Well, I suppose you should get used to that feeling, since my life is probably one big regret. _Shepard turned to exit the communication room. As she reached the door, Allice's voice stopped her.

_Does that include me?_

"We'll see," replied Shepard aloud. With a snort, she added, "I've never been great with long term relationships."

* * *

Liara woke, feeling like she'd taken a few too many drinks, which was not a sensation she had any actual familiarity with. She groaned as she leaned forward on the cot which she had appropriated to use in the laboratory. Having spent the better part of her maidenhood sleeping in temporary camps and dig sites, a sleeper pod held little draw for her.

She rubbed her calloused hands across her forehead, gently massaging her pounding head. Never before had she felt so _exhausted_ after a meld. Perhaps it was the medication that Ashley had been on? No, the medication would have made the meld easier; Ashley's mind would have been accepting to any connections that her sober mind would have typically rejected.

Ashley had been hurting, deeply, and it was a hurt that Liara could identify with. Liara was still grieving her own loss, burying it deeply so that she could support Shepard and her mission to fight Saren and the Reapers. Shepard needed her abilities, her knowledge, and her...

Liara stopped her hands as the pieces began to fit. Except, it wasn't really Shepard that needed her; it was she, Liara T'Soni, that needed...wanted Shepard. Ashley had said it too, in almost the same way. She wanted to be there for Shepard, to support her, to protect her, to lay down her life in a heroic sacrifice.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Liara knew why melding with Ashley had been so painful despite the ease with which they had joined minds. They were already thinking in harmony, each wanting to care for their commander in her own way. For some reason, Ashley's raw emotion had affected her greatly, pulling at her strength. Perhaps it was Liara that had given Ashley the strength freely, it was hard to say.

She rose from the cot and felt her headache return with a vengeance. Steadying herself against a crate containing some artefact or another, she forced herself to remain standing. A deep breath and a quick mental pep talk later, she had managed to don her coveralls and find herself standing at the foot of Ashley's bed in the medical bay.

"I was hoping to see you today," croaked Ashley in a raspy voice. She coughed and made some rather strange noises for a moment. "Sorry, Liara, I've got a bit of dryness in my throat."

Liara nodded, "It's good to see you awake."

"It's good to be awake." She met Liara's gaze and held it before continuing, "I really, really want to thank you for what you did for me. I don't remember exactly what happened, but the Doc filled me in on the details."

Flicking her eyes at the empty space where Doctor Chakwas usually sat, Liara smiled slightly. "I appreciate the gratitude, Ashley. Anything to help a friend."

"Well, I owe you one. Perhaps a beer next time we're on the Citadel?"

"As long as we leave Shepard on the Normandy, she usually finds trouble everywhere she goes," replied Liara.

"Ha, ha...oh," Ashley hissed and grabbed her side. Liara's smile fell immediately and she moved toward the bedside. Ashley raised her free hand and waved her off. "I'm ok, really." Gritting her teeth, "Hurts a bit to laugh."

Liara's smile returned, and she grabbed Ashley's hand as it dropped back down. Ashley laid back in the bed, turning her face away from Liara. "The things you saw when we...when you were there with me, will you tell the Commander?"

"Why would I do that?" replied Liara, quizzicaly. She could see moisture forming in Ashley's eyes, and as much as the marine tried to hide it behind a tough persona, she was still as vulnerable as anyone else. "All I saw was someone trying to do her best for someone she cared deeply for. Is that something Shepard needs to know? I suspect she already knows that you do your best every time you go out for a mission."

"Thank you, Liara." Ashley's brown eyes locked with Liara. "Thank you," she whispered.

All Liara could do was give Ashley's hand a gentle squeeze in response. A silence fell between the two, neither one daring to break it. Liara brushed her fingers on Ashley's hand, feeling the callouses and scars that had accumulated through the years of training, weapons maintenance, and general abuse.

The serenity of the moment was broken as the door hissed open, admitting Doctor Chakwas. "Liara, it's good to see you," interrupted Doctor Chakwas, carrying a datapad in her hands. "Good to see you awake, Seargeant Williams. I'm quite glad Liara was able to help you out." Chakwas' eyes drifted over the two figures as she made her way to her desk.

Ashley withdrew her hand as quickly as she could, her eyes fixed on the interloper. Liara felt a dull ache in her chest as she came to the realization of why Ashley had recoiled so quickly. "I must be going, I am glad you are healing, Williams." She turned and hurried out of the infirmiry into the mess hall.

Feeling like a fool, she wandered up the stairs to the command deck, her head bowed. _What a fool I am._

* * *

"Joker, how long until we reach the Exodus Cluster?" asked Shepard, leaning on the pilot's chair as she looked out into the void of the galaxy.

"Uhh, about two hours, ma'am. Where to from there?" replied Joker, rapidly switching between screens on his command console.

Shepard drummed her fingers on his chairback as she pondered the next move that Saren might have made. The problem was that he'd been rather quiet for the past few weeks, and it was making her nervous. He was up to something.

"Let's wait until we hit the cluster and exit radio silence. I'll need to contact the Council and see if anything has turned up."

"Aye-aye," replied Joker. "I'll buzz you when we drop to LTL."

Shepard nodded, "Thanks Joker." She turned and strode back through the command deck. As she approached the command information center, she saw Liara staring into the holographic map of the galaxy. Drawing closer, Shepard saw that the shimmering lights of the stars were reflecting on the tears that had collected in Liara's eyes.

She stopped next to Liara, tapping her softly on the shoulder. "Hey."

Liara turned her head, and gave a weak smile. "Shepard."

"Want to talk?" asked Shepard softly, leaning against the console railing. "I'm a pretty good listener; too many years of being in the Alliance fleet."

A soft chuckle escaped from Liara, "I could see that."

"Well? How 'bout we go to my quarters, give us some privacy?"

Looking back to the galaxy map, Liara shook her head. "This is the closest I can get to capturing some of the environment I am accustomed to. The stars remind me of simpler times, when it was me and the artefacts."

Shepard nodded thoughtfully. "Don't we all wish things could be simple."

"Indeed, Shepard."

"Do you miss her? Benezia, I mean?" asked Shepard.

Liara turned to face Shepard, her expression stony. "My mother was many things, Shepard. Loving was not one of them. I may miss the idea of her, but I do not miss her for who she really was." Her face softened. "No, I grieve for my own innocence. I am in the prime of my maidenhood, and yet I seem to make all the wrong decisions. I try to run from my heritage, and it still manages to find me. I try to reach out to someone, and they reject me for being unlike them."

Tilting her head quizzicaly, Shepard asked, "Do you mind if I ask who?"

"Yes, I do," blunted Liara. "I apologize Shepard, I know you are looking out for me, but this is a personal matter. I will not let it affect my duties."

"I'm not worried about that, Liara. I know I can trust you." Shepard sighed, "You know I'm always here to listen. You've been there for me, and I thank you for that."

Liara smiled at Shepard. "I will always be there for you. I do not think a single soul on this ship thinks any differently. You're captivating, Shepard." Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingers across the commander's olive toned cheek. "Something about you; something draws lost souls to you."

"I," Shepard hesitated, "I'm sorry Liara, I can't..." She turned away, knowing how the conversation was going to end before it had even truly begun. "I can't give you what you seek. I'm sorry."

"I know. I knew the answer. That does not change a thing." She withdrew her hand. "I know why you hide." Liara pushed back from the map, her head lifted defiantly. Her eyes, still sparkling with unshed tears, bore straight into Shepard's. "Thank you, Shepard, for being you."

Shepard watched as the asari strode away, feeling blindsided by the whole exchange. _She is not of your species, and yet you desire her companionship, Samantha?_

_It's complicated, Allice. Real complicated. Relationships between humans aren't easy, and I doubt relationships between species are even less so._

_Acknowledged, Samantha._

Shepard sighed, trying to swallow the pang of guilt that she felt. Her life just never could be simple, could it?

* * *

Miranda swore.

Usually, she refrained from swearing, typically choosing to express her anger with a hyper-accelerated slug or a powerful blast of her biotics. In this case, doing either would have destroyed her communications gear, navigation computer, life support computer, and probably a few other essential systems.

Swearing was a good idea.

Her signal to the marines on the ground was being jammed, likely by the rogue Cerberus cell. Naturally, wherever they were preventing communication, they were probably doing something they didn't want anyone to discover. The Illusive Man had warned her that the rogue group had put their plans into action already, and she might be arriving only in time to report the body count.

She hoped that was not the case.

Her shuttle was equipped with a decent communication computer, but it was definitely not a military grade anti-jamming VI. She flew a search pattern, hoping that by sweeping the general area, she could home in on the jamming transmitter.

Every pass took far too much precious time.

The computer was starting to give a decent track to a general location, which was good enough for her. She spurred the shuttle toward the region of Edolus where she suspected the jamming transmitter was placed. The computer had a track with an eighty-two percent certainty, which was good enough for her.

A quick pass revealed in the area revealed a wide plain with several dunes. Not good. There was no sign of the ground squad, but there was always a chance she might find them. She resumed flying the search pattern, this time in a smaller range and closer to the surface.

There.

A faint plume of smoke was rising on the horizon, which was surprising since Edolus lacked enough atmospheric oxygen for typical combustion. As she sped closer, her heart sank. She had seen this kind of attack before.

Thresher maws.

The convoy of vehicles was scattered and broken on the dune. The bodies of some of the soldiers were lying exposed on the sand, casualties of science gone wrong. She brought the shuttle to a hover, not wanting to risk an encore of what had already occurred. She was too late to save them, it would be pointless to die here as they did.

Miranda quickly searched for the jammer, quickly finding it in the form of a dummy distress transponder. Gently, she positioned the shuttle over the device, allowing her to access it without disturbing the ground. She reprogrammed it to send a genuine distress call, hoping that the responders would not fall to the same fate as the marines here.

She strapped back in and accelerated away from the forsaken world. The Illusive Man would need to know about this.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not dead! My day job required some rather significant time and since it pays the bills, this was put on hold. I apologize for the delay, and I apologize to everyone who's getting bored already. I hope you enjoy, things will be moving along now!**


	9. Chapter 9

Shepard hefted the weights back onto the rack and grunted, a somewhat incongruous sound for her to make, but not totally so considering that she was in the Normandy's small gym. One thing that helped her relieve stress was physical activity, which she engaged in with a passion. Aerobics and strength training was something that the Alliance had encouraged all service members to engage in, since even with the advances simulated gravity, there was still a risk of bone density loss due to extended periods of sub-Terran conditions. It also helped that a well equipped facility could be squeezed in to just about any size ship, and it allowed for a positive manner outlet of the natural aggression that seemed to build up in humans that had cramped living spaces.

As she hefted the weight set back down to complete another set, Joker's voice interrupted her.

"Commander Shepard, we're five minutes from going ell-tee-ell. Do you want to be here when we exit comm silence?"

Grunting again, she replaced the weights on the rack. "Yeah. I'll be there." She wiped the sweat on her brow with a towel. _I figured you'd, you know, not let me sweat all over the place._

_You seem to think that because I have assumed command of your physiology, that there is something wrong with the natural processes that occur. You are incorrect in your conclusion. _Allice sounded miffed, if an AI could be. _The human body seems to be quite optimized to handle standard conditions and minor variances thereof. I see no need to make drastic alterations in the process if unnecessary to do so._

_Alright, doctor science, I was just asking. _Shepard rose from the bench she was sitting at and headed for the command deck. _You didn't seem to have a problem rushing my recovery the other night. What about that?_

_On retrospect, I was overly aggressive in my actions. During your rest cycle, I spent a significant portion of the time filling the blanks in my knowledgebase. _

Punching the elevator call button with a bit more force than necessary, Shepard briefly considered asking how Allice had done so. It was tempting, but she had learned long ago that ignorance was bliss.

_Your terminal was unlocked, and the ship has an excellent library, _replied Allice as soon as the thought crossed Shepard's mind.

Shepard scowled as she stepped into the elevator. _You always have an answer, don't you?_

_No. You ask simple questions._

_Cute. I think my sarcasm is rubbing off on you. _

* * *

Ignoring the sidelong glance that Kaidan made as she entered, Shepard announced her arrival with typical efficiency.

"Joker, what's our status?"

"Uhh," he flipped through a display, "we're about thirty from dropping out of the relay." There was a pause as the ship's VI began preparing for deceleration. "Ell-tee-ell in...three...two...one..."

The shift from whatever speed they had been traveling and whatever space they had been doing it in was nearly seamless, the only telltale was the inevitable shift in gravity as the inertial dampers kicked in as the drive core took over propulsion duty. As the mass effect field dissipated and the external cameras initialized, Shepard gazed at the screens which served as 'windows.' Although interstellar travel was not the great risk it had been a century ago, she still had a respect for the vast dark fabric that blanketed her existence.

"Sensors coming online, Commander. Drift is...just over seventeen hundred. Thrusters green," informed Joker in an unusually serious edge to his voice. Despite the cavalier attitude he displayed at all other times, when doing what he called 'real pilot stuff' he was unflinchingly attentive.

"Commander, we're back on comms; I've got a distress signal on the priority-one Alliance channel," interrupted Kaidan from his post. "It's been repeated from the ..." he paused while his terminal fed information to him, "Artemis Tau cluster, Sparta system. It looks automated, no messages attached."

Shepard crossed her arms and scowled. That system was a backwater, frequented only criminals and foolhardy explorers. Even the Alliance rarely sent vessels there, which made the distress call more unusual.

"How fresh is it?" she asked.

"Within the past couple of hours. There haven't been any Alliance vessels dispatched to the area, we're the closest one," replied Alenko.

"Joker, how long would it take to get there?"

"Computer's telling me six hours, twenty three minutes," he responded as soon as she asked. "Would you like to set course?"

"Give me a moment to think, I still give the orders here," snapped Shepard, breaking from her impassive demeanor. "Alenko, any other priority messages?"

"No, ma'am," was the curt reply.

"Fine. Joker, let's go check this out. Make your course."

"Aye-aye, ma'am," replied Joker, in his 'serious pilot' voice.

Shepard turned to leave the cockpit. "I'm going to catch some rack time, if anything pops up, get Mr. Pressly to handle it."

"Aye-aye," replied the two men in unison, each with a significant glance toward the other.

Her footsteps down the walkway faded and a uncomfortable silence fell between the two. For several minutes, only the quiet hum of the various environmental controls punctuated by soft tones from the VI terminals could be heard in the command deck.

Joker was the first to break the tension. "She's acting weird," commented Joker as he rubbed his scruffy chin thoughtfully. "Well, weirder than usual. You talking to her again?"

Kaidan turned his head and cocked an eyebrow. "I'll have you know that I've taken your advice. I haven't spoken to her since before we jumped yesterday. I don't think I've even seen her since then."

Joker turned toward Kaidan and furtively looked back down the hall, making sure there were no eavesdroppers. "She's been wandering around, totally oblivious to everything. I saw her talking to herself. It's really strange, man."

"I haven't noticed anything like that."

"Well you don't have the sources I have," replied Joker significantly.

"Somehow I don't think the Commander would be thrilled to find out you've been using the interior cameras to spy on her." Kaidan turned back to his terminal. "Aren't those viewing restricted to senior staff? I don't think I even have access."

A Cheshire-like grin appeared on Joker's face. "I'm the pilot. I need to know how my craft is performing."

"Ah-huh," muttered Kaidan skeptically.

"Seriously though," Joker regained the thoughtful tone, "I think she's knocked something loose in here." He poked to his head a few times for emphasis. "After that beacon, and then the Thorian, she's probably all loose screws in there."

"Joker, you better cut that shit before it becomes insubordination," growled Alenko.

"Oh, please, I know you're worried too. She's changed, man." He frowned and punched a few buttons on his terminal. "And not for the better. I like her, I really do, but I worry. We gotta make sure she stays sane, at least until this mission is over."

Kaidan knew it was true, but he was not nearly as outspoken as Joker. It was validation for him, however, since the Samantha he'd met was nothing like the Commander Shepard that had just left the bridge. He only hoped that whatever was getting to her head, be it injury, the visions, or just plain stress, would not be enough to compromise her ability to lead and fight. It did make him nervous.

"Still," Joker interrupted Kaidan's train of thought, "I hear crazy chicks are great in the sack."

Alenko snapped his head to give Joker a piece of his mind and found himself staring straight at Joker's smug, toothy grin. "Ha! You're too easy man."

Kaidan tried to keep a straight face, but the look on the pilot's face was priceless. He allowed a little grin to escape, but said nothing to acknowledge Joker's comment. He was, after all, an officer and a gentleman.

* * *

"Once again I find myself out-maneuvered, Miranda, and that is a situation that I do not particularly care for."

Miranda flexed her hands behind her back, bracing herself mentally for the inevitable admonition that was surely to follow on the heels of her report. Although her mission had not succeeded in any way, there was nothing she could have done to change the outcome. The rogue cell had already made its move and was gone before she had even entered the system. Resetting the beacon to transmit a distress call was probably not her wisest choice, but even she had scruples. It was tragic enough that Alliance personnel had died, but it was far worse that they had been left out so carelessly. They had deserved better treatment than to be left to decompose on that forsaken planet.

The Illusive Man exhaled, swirling the acrid smoke as it passed over his tongue. "They seem to think that I am unable to call them to account for their actions. Truly a foolhardy belief. They have forgotten that I control the strings that tie to their lifelines." He tapped the cigarette on the arm of the chair, knocking off the ash. "You did well to confirm my suspicions. I can find no fault in your actions. I can assume any evidence of our activity should have been disposed of?"

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Miranda felt a weight lift from her shoulders. "There was some minor code scrubbing to be done to the decoy beacon, but there was no other evidence of any involvement. The Alliance will find their remains and hopefully chalk it up to a rescue mission gone wrong."

"Good. I have another assignment for you, Miranda." He took a deep pull on the cigarette, "I want to destroy their front and bring the remaining assets back into the fold. You may have heard of this company." He keyed a sequence into the holographic interface on his chair and a logo appeared on the large display behind him. Miranda lifted an eyebrow as she controlled her surprise; this had been unexpected.

"The Sirta Foundation?"

"The very same. Chief technology rivals to your father's corporation."

Miranda nodded thoughtfully. A chill coursed through her blood. It seemed that there was always another layer of intrigue in her life. She would have to investigate the matter further when she had time. For now, she had a task.

"Forgive my ignorance, but couldn't you just exercise the shares we hold and restrict their credit flow?"

The Illusive Man blew another stream of smoke, adding to the haze surrounding him. "I could. However, I feel it best to keep that as an option of last resort." He rose from his chair, turning his back on the holographic camera. "I would like you to bring them to their knees. My research has led me to conclude that this is not the first time they have disobeyed me and used our resources as a means to conduct experiments the likes of which I do not abide by.

"There is group of scientists that are under contract with the Alliance. They are pawns which will be sacrificed. The chessmaster must understand the game that I am playing. I own all the pieces, and I own the board!" His voice quivered with barely-restrained anger. He turned back, his blue eyes flashing in the haze that surrounded him.

"Seek a man named Toombs. You will need to set on the correct path. He has been on the receiving end of their experiments, but he managed to escape from their clutches." He paced in front of her, gesturing stiffly as he spoke. "I will send the dossier to you. It contains the names of his tormentors and where many of them can be found. Their work had been part of a cooperative research effort that the Alliance had wanted performed. You may find some of the participants' names familiar to you." He returned to his chair and keyed commands into the holographic panel.

A soft beep notified her that the data had been received. The Illusive Man stood silent and still in her holographic projector, presumably waiting for her to skim the documents. Quickly she glanced over the list of 'participants' in the experiment.

"Shepard? _The _Samantha Shepard?" exclaimed Miranda, unable to control her surprise this time.

"My thoughts exactly. For some reason, she seems to find herself the center of a great deal of trouble. There is something about Shepard, something which makes her the locus of great movements in the galaxy." He sat again, stubbing his spent cigarette into the ashtray. "See that Toombs is put in motion. Guide him, give him the tools he needs. His vengeance will handle the rest."

"If Shepard becomes involved?" queried Miranda, her head spinning with the vast machinations in which she was a mere cog.

"A possibility which I have accounted for, Miranda."

* * *

Shepard missed her Titan-class armor. It was a silly thing, but when going into a hostile environment, she wanted to be prepared. However, with her favorite armor still battered to pieces, she had to pull out the standard issue Onyx gear and bear with it.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the cargo bay and a flurry of activity. The Mako was being positioned for surface drop by the Alliance technicians under the watchful eye of Garrus. Her eyes scanned across to the small workbench that was used as an armory.

"Shepard," grunted the krogan standing beside one of the lockers.

"Wrex," she replied tersely as she approached.

"You're a fool if you think I'm getting into that tin can."

"I'm down a soldier, Wrex, and I need a little meat to back us up on this drop. We shouldn't be long on the surface, so don't get your quads in a wad," snarked Shepard. "You'll fit just fine."

"Hmph," growled Wrex. "Too bad there won't be any killing to do. I'm getting bored in here."

Shepard sighed and shook her head. "There's a human saying, Wrex. 'Be careful what you wish for.' I kill because I have to, not because I relish in it."

"Whatever. Let's get this over with."

Nodding in assent, Shepard followed him over to the Mako. Garrus looked up from the datapad he held, flaring his mandibles as they approached. Wrex proceded to the rear of the vehicle, grumbling beneath his breath. Shepard stopped and nodded at Garrus.

"We good?"

"Everything is in acceptable condition, Shepard," replied Garrus in his silky voice. "The rear grav-booster is off by two percent, but it should not hamper routine operation."

"Good enough for me. I don't expect fireworks." She extended her arm toward the Mako. "After you, Garrus."

* * *

Edolus was a dry, dusty planet which had little in the way of resources or features to attract visitors. Not so cold or poisonous to prevent human colonization, the lack of water and oxygen seemed to be the biggest problems other than the sheer uselessness of the planet. Great dust-storms rolled across the vast, cratered surface, not unlike Mars. Unlike Mars, there was no great cache of prothean technology to even make the place noteworthy.

Due to the dust storms, the Normandy was forced to release the Mako at a fairly high altitude. The Mako could handle these type of drops on lower gravity planets, but it was not the preferred method. The Mako flew through the thin atmosphere like a slightly melted brick, accelerating gently toward terminal velocity. The onboard VI calculated an optimal altitude to activate the small anti-grav boosters which would guide the vehicle to a relatively gentle crash on the surface.

"Grav boosters engaged, Shepard," called Garrus from his position in the driver's seat. He seemed to be something of a gear-head at heart, which was strange considering his background in law enforcement. "We're slowing down within acceptable flight margins."

"Thank you, Garrus," replied Shepard. "You hanging in there Wrex?"

"Shut. Up. Shepard," was the strained response from the rear compartment.

"We'll be on the ground shortly."

"Inevitably, Shepard. Will we be in one piece? That is what you should ask."

Shepard rolled her eyes. For being a krogan battlemaster, Wrex seemed to have an unusual amount of phobias. Perhaps it was a krogan thing.

Garrus interrupted Wrex's complaints, "Touching down in three...two...one..."

The Mako hit the soft terrain of the planet and stuck, the three passengers absorbing the last amount of energy that the suspension could not.

"Nice landing, Garrus," Shepard complimented the turian.

"I think I'm a triple thanks to you," groaned Wrex. "First the genophage, now your driving. When will the persecution end?"

"Your compliment is appreciated, Shepard," Garrus replied, ignoring the melodramatic groans of the krogan in the back. "I'm picking up the tracking pulse now. We're not far off."

"Let's go."

The powerful motors installed in each of the wheels pulled the Mako out of the soft sand and accelerated them to a decent speed across the terrain. Shepard scanned the horizon for any sort landmarks or signs of disturbance. The dunes shrank in size as the drove, and the terrain grew softer. Garrus was forced to use the anti-grav boosters to counteract the weight of the Mako as they proceded.

"Commander, we're almost..."

"There," finished Shepard, cutting off Garrus as she brought the gun control into focus. "I see some vehicles."

Garrus pushed the Mako a little harder, fighting the soft terrain. As the distance rapidly closed, Shepard surveyed the scene looking for signs of life. All she could see was the scorched remains of three M-29 'Grizzly' infantry fighting vehicles. They appeared to be stuck up to the axles in the soft sand. The emergency transponder stood about ten yards away from the lead vehicle.

"Garrus, park us about fifty meters out, I don't want to get too close in case there's an IED or some kind of trap. Keep the motor running," ordered Shepard as they drew close to the scene.

"Acknowledged, Shepard."

"Wrex, get ready to take a little hike."

The krogan scowled as only a krogan could. "Beats sitting in this fancy coffin, waiting for nothing."

Garrus brought the Mako to a halt and evacuated the atmosphere. Shepard and Wrex jumped from the rear hatch and both of them immediately sank ankle deep in the soft sand. Pulling her assault rifle from its holster, Shepard motioned for Wrex to follow.

"Terrible ground for defense," commented Wrex over the radio. "But there isn't any cover for an ambush either."

"It's too open for a close-in ambush, but there's always the possibility of an aerial assault."

"With this dust? And why here?"

"That's a very good question, Wrex." Shepard moved as quickly as the soft ground would allow, which was a pace not much faster than a walk. As the pair got closer to the IFVs, the damage to the vehicles could be seen. The rearmost IFV looked to be in the best condition, with only a few black scars spread across the sides of the vehicle.

"These burn patterns don't seem to match any weapons I've seen," Wrex grunted as he climbed up onto the top of the vehicle. His vast bulk had him struggling with the sand. "Looks almost like splashes."

"The damage goes straight through the hull," mused Shepard as she ran her fingers on the jagged edge of one hole. "If the crew weren't pressure-suited, they would have asphyxiated when the atmosphere escaped."

Shepard looked down the row of vehicles, not seeing any signs of bullets, flechettes, or explosives on the hulls. Stepping back from the burn-out Grizzly, she puzzled over what kind of weapons would cause this kind of damage.

"You know, I think I was right about that splash pattern thing, Shepard. From here, I can see scars on the sand that look like misses." Wrex surveyed from atop the IFV. "It reminds me of my rite of passage back on Tuchanka. One of the trials..." Wrex began telling the story of his rite.

Allice's soft voice interrupted Wrex's story.

_Samantha, I'm detecting a very faint, low frequency vibration source approaching our location. _

_What? How?_

"...we had to go to the ritual grounds..."

_Your inner ear fluid is moving unusually. There is something moving, under the ground from the sensations in your feet. The frequency is increasing, and I suspect this is due to a doppler effect. It is accelerating._

_A what effect?_

"...and you know what it did? It lifted this weight..."

_The doppler effect. A sound source that is moving closer to the receiving station and effectively increases the frequency of the sound waves due to the compression of the waves as the source travels. In this case, the source of vibration in the ground is moving toward us, and is gaining speed._

"...that summoned...

_The only thing that would be underground in this kind of terrain is..._

"... a thresher maw."

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter for you to enjoy! Action! Adventure! Drama! Plot holes closed! Thank you so much for reading and for the constructive criticisms! I appreciate every comment!**


	10. Chapter 10

"What do you think of _that,_ Shepard?" laughed Wrex from atop the Grizzly IFV. "They say I was the first one in a hundred years to pull that off!"

Shepard froze. She'd been here before. It had not ended well. Not well at all.

_Samantha, you need to evacuate the area. _

The long-repressed memories surfaced, fired into her conscious mind. The rumbling noise, that same horrible rumbling which had borne down on her once before.

_Yes, evacuate! Where? There's nowhere to run to!_

_Samantha, you cannot delay. We don't have time. _

The stench of the acrid acid burning against the hull of the truck. The screams of her men as the acid ate into their flesh, through their armor, and into their bones. The sight of a broken and twisted vehicle flying through the air after being lifted by the demonic beast. The cry of the beast, striking fear into her very soul. All of it came flooding back to her.

_We're all going to die!_

"Hey, you hear that..." Wrex's voice floated through her mind, only for a second, before fading into the cacophany of horrors which played on repeat.

_Samantha, we will not die if you listen to me. _Allice's voice gained a hint of urgency._ We are not going to die. Samantha. Wake up!_

* * *

"Hey, Chief, I was thinking."

Shepard turned and raised and eyebrow skeptically, "You sure that's a good idea, Toombs?"

Toombs paused for a moment, his eyes glazing as he digested Shepard's comment. "Uh, well, yeah, I think so."

"Well, I'm all ears corporal," snarked Shepard, returning her eyes to the road. More of a track through the native flora really, possibly a path. Akuze was one of those 'garden worlds' that were ripe for colonization. Hot, humid, and full of forests. Stupid, massive, forests.

"Okay, well here it is," began Toombs, winding himself up for the big reveal, "You know how you can do that thing with your mind, like, that biologic stuff?"

"Biotics?"

"Yeah, that, well I bet people have been doing it a long time but we didn't know about it!" Toombs seemed pleased with the idea. "Like magic, you know? That would explain a lot of things that people believed in. I imagine a bunch of the stuff those religious fundies believe was actually caused by biotics, miracles and stuff."

Shepard remained silent, her eyes watching the back end of the armored personnel carrier in front of her.

"Chief, what do you think?"

As slowly as she could manage, Shepard tilted her head and gave Toombs a sideward glance. For effect, she stared directly into his eyes with an unfocused look. She held her face as Toombs shed his previously confident grin. Finally she dropped the face. "That's the biggest bunch of crap I've ever heard, Toombs." She returned to her omni-tool, ignoring the pained look on the corporal's face.

The hum of the engine and creaking of the truck chassis as it bounced along behind the APCs were the only noises that punctuated the silence between the pair.

"Still, Chief, you gotta admit, it's somewhat plausible. Think of all the crazy things we've seen in the last thirty years. I mean, come on! Eezo? Aliens? Who saw that shit coming?"

"Toombs, I've seen some weird shit that you would not believe, and I never left Earth. Is it really that hard to wrap your head around the idea that the galaxy does not revolve around our insignificant species? Our ancestors were idiots."

"I'm not saying that, it's just that we've been pretty much in space for what, a couple of centuries? I've seen the vids, the stuff those guys were doing in the twentieth was primitive. They didn't have any idea about eezo, but maybe they would have thought things different if that stuff was found on Earth. Suppose the people that _did _know about it hid it from everyone. I don't know, it just seems like a bunch of stuff people believe could be explained by it."

Shepard furrowed her brow. "And what would the explanation be? A biotic wizard did it? Come on Toombs, people are morons and will buy any line of crap they're sold as long as it's shiny and smells good."

Toombs pursed his lips in frustration, but held his tongue. Shepard returned to her omni-tool, trying to get a sat-nav signal to determine their position. Usually she preferred to have a proper map, but these stupid colony worlds usually had no maps and minimal global satellite networks. Akuze was still in the infant colony stages, one of few that didn't have a mega-corp backing it.

"Stupid piece of junk," growled Shepard, giving up on her tool. She keyed the mic on her helmet radio; "Gupta, Chang, hold up here in this clearing. Set a perimeter. I need to get a satellite fix on our position and the foliage is playing hell with my receiver."

"Yes, ma'am!" chorused the drivers of the two APCs.

"Toombs, pull up on that little rise to the right so I can run up the antenna."

The corporal piloted the truck, more of a buggy which was affectionately called the 'Puma', onto the loamy ground.

"Whoa," commented Toombs as the truck sank slightly. "This is mushy stuff."

"We'll be fine. We won't be fine if we can't find the pioneers."

Toombs grunted as he urged the truck through the soft terrain. When they got closer to the small mound, Shepard released the satellite aerial from its cradle and watched as it slowly rotated into an elevated position. She turned back to her omni-tool and waited for the link to establish.

"I don't know why anyone would want to live on a colony like this," mused Toombs, pulling off his helmet and wiping the sweat from his brow. "I mean, I liked it on Mars well enough. A bit hot, but it's a dry heat, you know? Earth though, man, I'd love to live there." His voice had a dreamy tone to it.

"You've never been the Earth, have you, Toombs?" scoffed Shepard.

"No."

"It sucks. Don't go there. I couldn't get away fast enough."

"Well, that's your opinion and you're entitled to it," sulked the corporal, not feeling like having his dreams ruined.

Ignoring him, Shepard focused on the omni-tool as it began searching for the satellite signals. She kicked herself mentally for not downloading the area maps locally when they had been preparing for the mission. _Always something, what a stupid thing to forget. Some leader you are._

"Hey, Chief," interrupted Toombs, "You hear something?"

"Yeah, your fat mouth."

"No, seriously, it's like, a real low rumbling noise. You don't hear that?" He began looking around the clearing nervously.

"I'm a little busy, and I'm wearing a helmet. Not much time or ability to listen to random animals in the forest."

"It's getting louder." A little quiver could be heard in his voice. "Listen!"

Shepard pulled her head up from the holographic display on her arm. There _was_ something making noise. It _was _getting louder. Much, much louder. The truck began to tremble.

She began looking into the dense forest, seeking the source of the noise. "What the hell is tha..."

The lead APC suddenly erupted from from the ground in a spray of dark, earthy debris, flinging a pair of marines into the air. The APC tilted forward onto its nose and came to rest on its back, crushed and twisted. A hydrogen tank must have ruptured, as flames began licking from the underside, spewing dark clouds of smoke from the wreckage. From the cloud of debris emerged the most terrifying sight that Shepard had seen.

A gruesome beast, some fifteen meters tall, lashed out at one of the nearby marines with a prehensile blue tongue, wrapping around him as he screamed in pain. The beast drew him back toward its gaping maw, small pincers gripping and tearing his body to pieces. Two appendages, jointed weirdly like arms with razor-sharp scythes for hands, flailed out at the crowd of shocked soldiers, knocking them down and crushing them mercilessly. The carapace of the beast was brown and purple, jointed in segments like a centipede. It was ridged with small appendages that wriggled strangely in the air, seeking purchase in the obviously unfamiliar atmosphere. Through it all, a horrific groaning, wailing noise could be heard emanating from the beast, nearly drowning out the cries of the injured marines.

The shock of the sight and the surprise of the attack caught her men flatfooted. A few of them even remembered to raise their rifles and fire at the beast. It was a useless gesture of defiance against the massive creature; the slugs of hypersonic material deflected off of its rugged shell. Shepard shook herself from the shock and leaped from the passenger seat of the truck, climbing for the unmanned minigun mounted on the back of the truck. She latched into the seat and disengaged the safeties on the multi-barreled cannon.

"Everyone scatter! Get out of the vehicles!" she screamed into the open command channel, hoping her troops had enough sense to run from the beast. "Toombs! Drive!"

The beast latched on to a second marine, possibly third or fourth as she hadn't paid close attention, who was struck down in the initial assault, drawing the poor bastard to his death. Shepard grit her teeth as the aimed the massive gun and pulled the firing triggers, spraying hundreds of rounds into the fleshy blue mouth of the creature. It seemed irritated by her actions, and withdrew into the hole it came from.

Toombs drove the truck toward the APCs, his foot flat on the accelerator. The truck swung wildly as the wheels sprayed dirt and foliage as they sought traction in the soft ground.

"Chief! You got it!" shouted Toombs in triumph. "What the hell was that thing?"

Shepard narrowed her eyes. The beast had retreated, but was it gone? The rumbling, groaning noise was still present, a dull reminder that the threat was not gone.

They crossed the clearing quickly and pulled up alongside the remaining APC. A handful of marines had begun to gather the wounded and were loading them into the back.

"Chang!" shouted Shepard from her seat.

"Ma'am!" The marine was clutching his arm at the elbow, blood dripping from his gloved hand.

"You've got thirty seconds to get everyone back in your carrier and move out."

He nodded. "Ma'am!"

"Toombs. Keep this thing moving!" she barked.

"Yes ma'am!"

She pulled up her omni-tool and tried to get a signal. Even with the aerial at maximum power, there was nothing but noise on any of the satellite channels. She swore at the device. She needed to call for assistance, but what the hell could she do if all the fancy technology in the galaxy couldn't allow her to make the damn call.

"Chief, we're loaded to go." Chang's voice interrupted her string of curses.

"Pedal to the metal, Chang. I'm marking the coordinates so we can come back later." She didn't need to mention that one didn't leave a marine behind, not even a dead one. However, when facing the unknowns of the galaxy, a commander was always forced to balance survival of the living with respect for the fallen.

The APC lurched into gear, backing away from the crate where the beast had emerged from. Toombs piloted the truck into a lead position, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

Shepard continued to watch her omni-tool, hoping that she would get a signal soon. The two remaining vehicles bounced along with as much speed as their drivers would risk, the jarring crashes of the suspension adding to the tension.

* * *

The beast was following. Shepard could hear it, even over the sounds of the truck whipping through the brush.

"Chief," Toombs' voice on the radio interrupted her thoughts. "You think that thing can get us in the woods?"

"I don't know, Toombs. Do you think I know what the _fuck_ that was?" spat Shepard, irritated.

Half her squad was either dead or injured, her comms were screwed up, and the survivors were facing some unknown cosmic horror which was probably stalking them. An altogether fantastic day.

"Just keep driving. If we stop we're dead."

* * *

As the minutes passed, the foliage increased in density, leaving only a narrow track for them to pass through. Toombs reluctantly reduced his speed to keep from pulling away from the much larger APC.

"I really hope this thing isn't smart enough to know where we're headed," stated Toombs, his voice still tinged with nerves. "Because I don't have a lot of manuverability here."

"I know." Shepard tried to hide the tension in her own voice. There was something very wrong. Her omni-tool wasn't even getting a signal anymore. Were they being jammed? "This fucking piece of shit!"

Shepard's outburst was enough of a distraction for Toombs to take his eyes off the path for a moment. "Oh...!" gasped Toombs, jerking the truck to the side, trying to avoid the large tree which lay fallen across their path. The vehicle slid as the tires lost traction, halting with a crunch and a tangle of branches as they hit the tree.

"Damn it!" swore the corporal, slamming his palms on the wheel. "Where did this fucking piece of sh..."

"Not now!" interruped Shepard. "Drive!"

As the corporal began trying to extricate the beached truck, she turned her head to look back at the now parked APC, a chill surging through her veins. Keying the command channel, she ordered, "Everyone! Out of the vehicle! Run!"

The seconds seemed to dilate as she saw the hatches open on the APC. The frightened marines poured from vehicle, trying to help their wounded comrades. This monster would not take pity on them. She knew it. The groaning, rumbling noise of impending doom was again pounding in her ears. It was coming back to finish the job. They were trapped. She could feel the sweat on her palms, even through the softness of her gloves as she rubbed the triggers on the gun, knowing the beast would be making an appearance.

From somewhere in the forest, a jet of ichor spattered the APC, sending tendrils of smoke from all surfaces it touched, be they metallic or organic. It ruptured something pressurized; the APC exploded with a bright yellow fireball. The screams of the unfortunate few that had the ooze touch them pierced the air. Shepard felt a wave of stench, sulfur and rot combined in a toxic cocktail, making her body gag reflexively. The assault on the senses was continuous and unrelenting. A few marines fired back into the leafy abyss, not seeing their tormentor but taking a small psychological comfort of doing _something. _One by one, the popping of random gunfire began to cease.

"Toombs! Drive!"

The frustrated corporal regained enough of his senses to hammer the accelerator, forcing the truck to divest itself from its leafy confines. It bucked wildly as the corporal tried to avoid the dense underbrush with little success. Shepard spun the gun mount to face the rear of the vehicle, looking for the beast, hoping to find a target. She was whipped by the foliage, some of it managing to puncture her armor. Gnashing her teeth, she ignored the stinging pain, focusing solely on pouring fire into the forest in the direction the beast had spewed its foul sap from.

"Chief!" A female voice cracked on her radio, Private Robbins perhaps, she couldn't tell. "Oh God no...!" The transmission ended in a wet guttural scream. Toombs heard it too, he let off the accelerator slightly.

Shepard roared in frustration. She knew her marines were being picked off, one by one. They might already all be gone. The channel had gone dead.

"Get back to the clearing, I want to kill this fucking thing!" raged Shepard.

Toombs was silent, but she knew he was in the same mindset. He was drinking buddies with Chang. He had probably bunked up with Robbins. They had all been comrades in arms.

The truck surged onto the narrow path as they exited the dense undergrowth. Shepard was certain there was a small branch lodged like a spear in her back, but it seemed minor considering the circumstances. Unfettered by keeping pace with the now-certainly destroyed APC, Toombs drove the truck with reckless abandon. The groaning cry followed them. _Good. _

The trip back to the first ambush seemed to pass in a mere instant to her adrenaline heightened senses. The stench of the burning vehicle and beast-bile lingered in the air. Toombs turned the truck onto the wide loamy ground, driving slowly as if to taunt the beast into making another appearance.

"Here, kitty, kitty..." whispered Toombs with frightening calm.

The rumbling grew in volume. It was close. So close.

Toombs punched the accelerator just as the beast surfaced behind them. Shepard swung the gun in its mount, sending a salvo of super-accelerated material at the gaping maw. The foul creature loosed a torrent of acid toward them, but Toombs narrowly managed to manuever the truck away from the stream, fountains of earth streaming from behind the truck.

The beast, now bleeding a luminescent blue slime from its mouth, withdrew from the assault.

"Did you get it?" asked Toombs, his voice empty.

"I got it mad," replied Shepard simply. The battle would not be won so easily.

"Okay," resigned Toombs.

* * *

The dance between foes carried on for many more rounds, the beast surfacing and trying to strike them, and they managing to avoid the cosmic horror my the slimmest of margins. It was obvious the creature was beginning to flag, bleeding acidic fluid each time it appeared on the surface. Shepard continued to fire barrage after barrage into the beast, but it refused to quit. Toombs' driving grew wilder and more reckless, the truck lurching across the tracks, craters, and ruts that with each pass. Shepard, lost in her own world, only saw the risks he was taking when it was too late.

"Toombs! Watch out!" yelled Shepard, but her voice was hoarse and indistinct.

From her vantage point, Shepard could see the growing crater which Toombs had taken aim at. The beast was surely going to emerge from there. It had slowed its assault, and Shepard had figured out the tells. The clouds of dust, the movement of the ground, she knew this beast.

"Toombs!" He paid no heed to her screams. They were rapidly approaching the edge.

"Toombs!"

The truck hit the lip of the crater at speed, launching into an ungraceful arc. Simultaneously, the beast emerged from the hole, adding its own impact energy to the undercarriage of the truck. Mortally wounded, the truck twisted weirdly in the air before resuming a downward path under the influence of gravity. Shepard flew outward, uncontrollably, having been ejected from her position by the force of the blow. With a sickening crunch, she landed in the shredded foliage, far from the wreckage, obscured from view.

Pain consumed her, drowning out the sights, sounds, and smells of battle.

* * *

An infinite moment later, no telling how long, Shepard came to under a soft rainshower. Pain coursed through her body. Her arm was definitely broken. Probably several ribs. And that branch in her back seemed to be a lot bigger now. Hauling herself to her feet, she looked out across the field and spotted the beast lying broken and bleeding from the hole it emerged from. Some distance away, the upended chassis of the truck lay burning, totally consumed in flame. The APC stood in the center of the clearing, smoldering now.

As she surveyed the death and destruction before her, Shepard did something she had refused to do for many years.

She cried.

* * *

A wave of calm suddenly passed through her body, and she could feel her heart beat slowing.

_Samantha, we have very little time, the thresher maw is headed directly for..._

Yes. It was time to let go of the past. Toombs had claimed his kill, and he had paid his price. Now it was time for her.

_...Wrex. _

She lifted her right arm, opening her palm as if she were gripping a ball in it. It felt like her body was moving slowly; she could feel the very atmosphere that resisted her movements. The tingling sensation of the dark energy gathering in her body was heightened; little static charges were leaping from her very pores. The energy gathered in her palm, crackling with excitement.

"...Shepard..."

Her mind released the energy, urging it to form a cushion of atmosphere as it traveled. It was more than happy to comply, dancing merrily as it surged toward the dumbfounded krogan.

"...what are you doing..."

The wave of pressure crashed into the great battlemaster, lifting him and pushing him backward from his perch upon the IFV. He moved slowly in an ungainly arc away from the vehicle, his limbs flailing like streamers behind him.

As quickly as he cleared the edge of the vehicle, it lurched upward; propelled by a great impact from below. The spine of vehicle bent and cracked, splitting it nearly in two pieces in a show of dust and sparks. The broken vehicle flew like a discarded toy, the cloud of sand swirling behind it.

From beneath the dust and debris rose the beast itself, its mandibles and tentacles flaring open to let loose a great scream. It towered over her, its weird luminescent tongue probing out into the dust, seeking its quarry.

_No. Not today._

Once again, she sought the dark energy that permeated the very fabric of reality that surrounded her. It was only too happy to oblige, heeding her call and collecting in rivulets that coursed through her nerves and danced on her mind. Seeing the beast begin to sway in preparation for a strike, she willed the energy into a tiny ball in her hands, expelling all matter which existed within a tiny radius.

The beast leaned back in preparation for a strike.

She raised her arms, ready with one of her own.

_Here, kitty, kitty._

_

* * *

_**A/N: Real life calls (in the form of a sick compressor) so you get a chapter early (on time, but due to a lack of polish, it's early). My OpenOffice spell checker is on the fritz, and FFN's isn't playing nice with my browser. Oh well. Any and all errors are my fault!  
**

**I have to fly out tomorrow, and I doubt I'll be able to revise it before then! If I get a chance, I'll edit and upload from the airport. Thank you reviewers, and readers! A gold star for anyone who spots the non-canon insert.  
**


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